For Her Honor
by KindredWoD
Summary: An accompaniment to Goblet of Fire, this story fills the gaps of what Viktor does with his time when he's not onscreen. Rated M for later. *Slowly recovering from Writer's Block*
1. On the Ship

**Title:** For Her Honor  
**Inspiration:** Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire  
**Genre:** Romance/Friendship  
**Pairing:** Viktor Krum/Hermione Granger  
**Others included:** Numerous from the movie (Several I've named myself, since the movie didn't specify)  
**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter characters and the Harry Potter world are property of JKR. I make no money from this and greatly thank the author for making characters wonderful enough that our imaginations have gone wild with them!  
**Warning:** Rated M for stuff I've got planned for later  
**Notes:** I've based my fanfic from the movie, not the book. This whole thing has been swimming in my head since I watched the movie about 50 times while at work (I used the DVD to check video-feed on laptops). Quite a few of the characters I use in my story weren't given names in the movie, so I just grabbed them from a website describing meanings behind names. That being said, enjoy and don't forget to review please!

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Sitting in his bunk deep within the Durmstrang ship, Viktor Krum pulled his boots on and yawned the sleep from his jaw. It had been a long trip, though considerably shortened via the ship's magical properties. Still, the time difference between Scandinavia and their destination in Scotland was messing with his sleep schedule. If there was one thing he kept religious track of, it was his training. Even this short interruption for the formalities of their arrival had set his teeth on edge. He had a set schedule of Quidditch practice, meals, sleep, and getting all of his studies done. After all, a young athlete doesn't stay young forever, and he needed some semblance of knowledge beyond the flight path of a snitch if he wasn't to starve in his golden years. He'd never had trouble finding time for all of these things in the past, as well as throwing in time with his Durmstrang and Quidditch brothers every so often. But when the announcement of the Tri-Wizard tournament had come, all eyes in the room turned to the favored prodigy of HighMaster Karkaroff. So it was decided without him saying a word that he would accompany the group to be chosen for the journey.

A swift rapping at his door snapped Viktor to attention as though he'd been sitting on a tack. Immediately he was standing straight, shoulders square, and heels clicked together. "Da," he replied to the knock. When Karkaroff's assistant, Yan Nankov opened the door to step in, Viktor relaxed instantly.

"Just keeping you on your toes," the newcomer said through a grin. Several years Viktor's senior, Yan had a slightly thicker goatee and was permitted to grow his hair out, as he was not an actual student at Durmstrang, but he still shared Viktor's Bulgarian heritage and possessed the broad shoulders, square jaw, and dark eyes. Those eyes now hinted towards a hidden excitement.

"Da, since you know only Karkaroff bothers to knock anymore," Viktor replied on a smirk, as he turned towards the mirror to ensure the school uniform he wore sat flat and neat.

"We are almost d'ere, my friend. Mikhail is in da crow's nest now." Yan watched as his friend took a steadying breath, the type Viktor always took before a big match or something else of great importance. Tossing a glance over his shoulder to ensure no lingering ears were near, Yan still lowered his voice slightly before speaking again. "Would you haff come anyways?"

Viktor seemed to contemplate the question as he picked up his overcoat and hat, not looking at his friend for several moments. When he had his coat on his shoulders and his hat in hand, he turned his dark eyes back to Yan. "You've become my best friend over the past years, ever since Karkaroff took interest in me five years ago and I was by his side almost as much as you. You know as well as I d'at I would haff come even if he hadn't made da decision for me. Perhaps it is choice. Perhaps it is destiny. Either way," he continued as he pulled his hat on over his neatly shorn hair, "da glory of winning da Tournament is more d'an I could ever hope for in da pitch." With that, Viktor placed his right hand on Yan's right shoulder, the elder doing the same. You are a good friend, Yan. To you alone I tell d'ese t'ings." Yan gave a nod as they stood locked together for a moment just long enough mean something to the best friends.

Just as the two each took their hands back, a commanding voice echoed throughout the ship. "Prepare for surface!"

"D'at would be my cue," Viktor said as he turned towards the door. Yan promptly held the door for him, squaring his shoulders, clicking his heels, and throwing his nose as high in the air as he possibly could without breaking his own neck. Viktor let out a short chuckle before giving his friend a mock punch in the shoulder, smirking at his faux formalities. "Come on." As Viktor left, Yan grinned and followed, waving a hand to snuff the candles in Viktor's room before closing the door.


	2. Welcoming Feast

**Note:** All previous warnings and disclaimers still apply.

* * *

Viktor was standing next to Karkaroff when the ship broke surface in the Black Lake of Scotland, just outside of the Hogwarts castle. Once the doors before them were opened, they stepped out to the deck to look up to the towers above them on the cliff. "This will be your moment, you know," Igor began as the other students busied themselves with preparing the ship for anchor. His accent was not nearly as thick as Viktor's while speaking English, having much more experience in the matter than the young man standing to his left. "The others may apply to be nominated, but in the end, you know you will be chosen."

"Da, HighMaster," Viktor replied as he watched the goings-on about them. When Karkaroff fell silent for several moments, he looked up to the HighMaster's face, who seemed to be deep in thought about something. Viktor decided against asking him what was his mind, knowing he had his own thoughts to deal with. With a great splash, the ship's anchor was set in the lake.

One of the other students strode up to the trio, Yan standing on Karkaroff's right side, as usual. Informing them that the longboats were ready, Karkaroff nodded and looked to Viktor. "Ready," he said as more of a statement than a question. Viktor nodded again and Karkaroff looked to Yan, ensuring he was ready to go as well. As always, Yan was mindful of the HighMaster's actions and expectations, and nodded before the man had to repeat the question to him. At a brisk pace, Karkaroff lead them to the longboat with snarling, panting sea-dragon heads on each end.

Once they were all ashore and inside the castle, the Durmstrang students waited in the hallway outside of the Great Hall, opposite the door of the Beauxbaton ladies. The wait to be announced wasn't very long, but it was long enough for several of the Durmstrang boys to undress the ladies with their eyes, many of the girls doing the same to the Northerners. One of the brunette Beauxbatons ran her emerald gaze up and down Viktor's muscular form as she allowed the tip of her tongue to slip from her mouth just enough to moisten her lips. Viktor saw the move from the corner of his eye, his Quidditch experience keeping him alert to any movement around him that may be a snitch. He didn't acknowledge the brunette, nor any of the Beauxbatons for that matter. He could almost hear the giggling already. It happened whenever he was away from the all-male surroundings of Durmstrang. One girl would recognize him. She would ask her friend to confirm it. They'd giggle together. And it would simply grow from there until he had the usual group of giggling, autograph seeking, starry-eyed girls following him around. He didn't need to make the brunette another addition to the group by giving her the satisfaction of acknowledgment. Instead, he pretended to be fascinated by the painting that hung next to the door, although it was simply a portrait of the two hounds kept by a former Hogwarts Headmaster. The two broad-chested canines looked back to Viktor and thumped their tails happily, Viktor having to fight the urge to reach up and scratch their ears. His attention was drawn from the moving painting when the ladies were announced and proceeded into the Great Hall.

A handful of the Durmstrangs looked to each other with knowing smirks, though kept their comments to themselves with Karkaroff within earshot. The HighMaster was no fool though, and knew he'd need to have a talk to the boys about keeping it in their pants while they were here. Merlin knows how many had fallen to the siren calls of those girls. His boys were better than that, at least in his mind. When they were announced, Viktor waited in the hallway with Karkaroff and Yan while the other students performed the short display of talents, only making his entrance once the path had been cleared for the trio. With Karkaroff right behind him, Viktor kept his gaze straight ahead and strode down the aisle to the head of the room, stepping aside for Karkaroff while he tuned out the whispers of excitement from the sighting of the international Quidditch star. Once they were seated however, it was impossible to tune out the parchment practically being shoved in his face from the one he would later refer to as "the blonde buffoon."

"I was in the Minister's box for the final match. Did you see me, Krum? I was cheering for you the whole time, though I couldn't be too loud due to my father wanting to be formal as he always does," Draco spewed out in his usual pompous fashion as Krum wondered if anyone would notice him doing an anti-headache charm.

"Krum, can I get your autograph?" Crabbe asked on a wide-eyed grin.

Draco quickly turned a glare to his fellow Slytherin. "You idiot! We're at the table. Do you bring parchment with you to dinner?"

"I could make some. I know the charm," the round-faced boy replied as he started to reach for his wand.

Draco simply rolled his eyes. "Like the last time you tried? In case you forgot, you turned your bloody robes to parchment. And then it rained before we could get back to the dorms!"

"Oh yeah..." Crabbe said as his gaze lowered to the table, the memory coming back and causing him to go meekly quiet.

Viktor tried his damnedest to focus on the meat and vegetables on his plate, but he was focusing so hard on tuning out the Slytherin trio that were as bad as the giggling girls that followed him, he didn't even take a moment to register what exactly he was eating. Stabbing a cut of meat and stuffing it in his mouth, he was a bit surprised when he had to gnaw on what he realized to be a toughened hog flank. Gulping some pumpkin juice to wash it down, Yan looked to him with one dark brow arched. "Somet'ing wrong?" he asked in a hushed tone. Viktor was rarely so frustrated.

"I v'ill be fine. It v'ill take a moment to settle in here," Viktor supplied once he'd swallowed the only half-chewed food. When he saw the main course plates starting to raise and float themselves from the Great Hall, he had to consciously stop himself from giving a sigh of relief. One more course and the dinner would be done. Soon thereafter, he could seek the refuge of his bunk back on the ship. Crabbe quickly forgot his moment of embarrassment as the dessert trays started to arrange themselves on the tables, grabbing for a fudge-filled eclair before the plate actually landed.

After the announcement of the Goblet of Fire, the rules of the Tournament being booed at in excess, and the arrival of Moody, the students of all three schools were excused to their own devices. Viktor nearly leaped from the bench he was sitting on, taking a split second to mutter to Yan, "I v'ill be in my bunk." Yan nodded and arched a brow again. He'd never seen Viktor react that way to someone wanting his autograph. True, Viktor had never been forced to sit next to such badgering for over an hour as he'd just endured, but something was up. As Viktor cut through the slowly rising crowd to get back to the longboats, he put on a face of impassiveness, trying not to draw attention to himself. Something about that Malfoy boy just rubbed him the wrong way. He'd never been so uncomfortable in someone's presence before.

Out in the hallways of the castle, Viktor swore the air was several degrees cooler and didn't hang with an almost oppressive stuffiness. He made a mental note to avoid Malfoy as much as possible during his time at Hogwarts. After he'd turned down a few corners, he could tell that the majority of the populace was remaining in the Great Hall, likely chatting and getting to know one another for a while before scattering to their own agendas. Stopping at an open window, Viktor looked out to one of the courtyards of the castle, simply letting the slight breeze cool his head a bit more while he tried to figure out what had him feeling so uncomfortable. As he turned to lean his back against the wall, a hint of movement caught his eye. It was one of the students passing by, on their way to their dorm, most likely. He recognized the girl as a Gryffindor by the gold and scarlet crest on her uniform. When he'd come to the hallway junction, he'd turned left and stopped about fifteen meters from the corner. The girl was about to continue going straight, but stopped momentarily to kneel down and tie her shoe. In the few moments it took for her to reveal her shoe from beneath her robes, retie it, and rise as she tucked a stray lock of wavy brown hair behind her right ear, Viktor's attention had been caught in more than a casual manner. Standing perfectly still, he watched the young lady smooth her outer robe as she walked away, not noticing him as she walked out of sight. The sound of Malfoy's voice approaching from the same direction the young lady had brought Viktor back to the task at hand. Turning on his heel, the quickly strode down the corridor to where the longboats waited.


	3. What Father Said

**Note:** All previous warnings and disclaimers still apply. This is the chapter where I start to stray from the book/movie on some points. If you've read/seen the original, please don't kill me for wandering. It's all in the name of plotline-enrichment. Also, I did my best with the accents of the Bulgarians. If there's a few missed words here and there that I didn't alter, please forgive me. That being said, enjoy!

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Back on the Durmstrang ship, Viktor made his way down into the ship's belly. With everyone but a skeleton crew still in the castle, the thuds of his thick black boots overpowered the creaking of ancient wooden stairs in the empty, echoing halls. The Undetectable Extension charm on the ship's interior made it take several minutes longer than an outsider would think, though it did make the trip to Scotland more comfortable. Twenty-five almost-adult young men required quite a bit of space each, after all. Finally making it to his bunk, he shoved the heavy oak door open with a slap of his flat palm and lit the candles with barely a conscious thought. His father had taught him all the minor elemental charms, drilled them into him until they were as simple as a blink of an eye for him. As he'd gotten older, he'd matured enough to thank his father for that on more than one occasion. His fingers made fast work at the buttons of his uniform shirt, allowing it to fall open and hang loosely around his chest, still concealed behind a white A-shirt. Now that he was out of the castle and in a place he knew Malfoy and other uninvited guests weren't allowed, he felt considerably better. "Somet'ing is wrong wit' him," Viktor mused aloud as he closed the door to his room and headed over to his bed.

Shrugging out of his uniform shirt, he tossed it over the end of the bed and sat in the chair at his writing desk. As he unlaced his boots and toed them off, he began thinking back to what his father had told him just before he left for this trip....

_Enter flashback..._

_Sitting in front of a gently crackling green and black burning fireplace, Viktor's father looked to his youngest son, currently sitting across from him in a plush leather armchair the same as his. The older man's midnight black hair was starting to become streaked with silver at the temples, adding to his already distinguished demeanor. After a moment of silence between them, the elder man slowly swirled the dark brandy in his glass as he spoke in his native Bulgarian tongue. "Your mother is very proud of you, son." Viktor gave a single nod as he watched the flames lick the inside of the fireplace. He knew not to interrupt his father when these talks happened. "You are the last to 'leave the nest,' as she calls it. Your brothers have all married and made wonderful lives for themselves, but none have the potential, nor the desire, to rise as you have. Kiril keeps his passion of helping others in the offices of International Magical Law in Moscow. Pavel is the best creationist at the Portkey Offices in London. And Serg is content with quietly traveling the world with his wife in search of lost witches and wizards. But you," he said on a lingering note, returning his gaze to Viktor. Viktor took the cue and shifted slightly to look his father square in the face. "You have a destiny of something grander. Perhaps not saving the world or changing magic for all time, but something that will leave your mark in history. Karkaroff is right in one thing, my son. You will be chosen as one of the three. Whether you win or not will be up to you. Should you win, there will be fantastic glory. But you must find something worth fighting for. Not the money, nor the glory. But something that is much more important than you can understand... until you find it," he said before taking a slow sip from his snifter. Viktor nodded to his father and looked back to the fire, silently contemplating what his father had meant..._

_End flashback..._

Now he was pondering the same thing as he stripped himself of his socks and pants, leaving him in his A-shirt and boxer-briefs of the same deep red on the Durmstrang shield. He tossed his removed clothes alongside his shirt on the bed before stretching his hands high over his head, the flexing every muscle in his well-honed body on the way back down. His thoughts wandered to what his brothers were each doing at that moment while he sat on the floor, hooked his feed under the edge of the bed, and began a shortened version of his in-bunk workout. With the dinner running so long (or at least feeling like it did), he would have to make up for the lost exercise the next day. For now, a round of situps and then jogging while levitating would have to suffice.

Just as Viktor finished, landed back on the floor, and rubbed a hand over his now sweaty head, Yan let himself into the room and smirked to his friend. "I do not see how you get d'at much work out of a room no more d'an two an a haff by t'ree and a haff meters." Viktor chuckled and they both gave a brief glance about the room. The door and writing desk with chair sat at one end while Viktor's bed was on the opposite wall. A large dresser sat under a painting of Malyovitsa peak in winter on the long wall, leaving the majority of the central area open.

"I do what I can wit' what I haff," Viktor replied before pulling a large hunter-green towel from his dresser and tossing it over his shoulder. "Is Karkaroff wanting to see me?" he asked as he reached into his pocket from the pants he had on the bed, pulling out his wand.

"He. I came to tell you d'at he and d'e o'ter masters are in a meeting and it could be all night for all we know. It would seem you have some time to yourself, my friend." Yan swore he could see Viktor sigh with relief.

"Good," he said before he waved his wand over his removed clothing and muttered the cleansing charm. "It v'ill give me time to write home. I know my parents are probably waiting for an owl." He slipped his wand under the pillow on his bed and turned towards the door, Yan stepping out into the hallway before him.

"Da owl tower is not hard to find in Hogwarts," Yan began as they walked down the hallway in the direction of the showers. "I saw it as we were going ashore da first time. I v'ill take Dimitar tomorrow morning. V'e brought several ot'er owls as v'ell. Karkaroff said it best if v'e haff some of our own, and not rely on d'a Hogwarts owls only. I do not understand his reasoning, but I know some people prefer d'eir own owls, such as your Dimitar. Perhaps it is somet'ing like d'at," he said on a shrug which Viktor mimicked at almost the exact same time. When they approached the door to the shower-room, Yan clapped a hand on Viktor's back. "Enjoy d'a night to yourself, my friend. Classes start tomorrow morning."

Viktor closed his eyes for a moment and appeared to be giving a silent prayer just before he spoke. "I just hope d'at d'ey keep d'a fourt' years and last years separate. If I haff to sit in da' same room wit' d'at blonde buffoon for a whole year, I may end up in Azkaban for v'at I do." Yan chuckled and clapped his friend on the back once more as Viktor went into the showers and Yan headed back towards his own room.


	4. First Day

**Note:** All previous warnings and disclaimers still apply. In addition, I warn you that I wrote most of this chapter while my man had friends over for a football game and I was mildly buzzed (ok, more like mildly sloshed) on White Russians and pink vodka cocktails. I'd like to give a big "Thank you" to the people who created and maintain the HP-wiki. Without it, many of the finer details wouldn't have made it into this chapter and beyond. Have fun reading and don't forget to review!

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Viktor woke to his howler alarm nagging him about getting up and getting his schedule back on track. Sitting up as he rubbed a hand down his face, he started to second guess his sister-in-law's suggestion of using the thing in this different time zone. When the howler's rants started to turn towards name-calling, he lit the candles of his room with a thought and his dark gaze shot daggers at the folded paper, which quickly acknowledged he was now fully awake and calmly folded itself to float back down to his nightstand. "D'at t'ing is going to be confedd'i be da end of da year..." he mused as he flung the covers off his legs and planted his feet on the wooden floor. He stood and stretched his arms high above his head, giving a massive yawn of his chiseled jaw. As he reached under his pillow and withdrew his wand, he started going over what his schedule would be on a daily basis for this year, what variants would be interjected for the weekends, and what sort of escape plans he might need in case of any overly ambitious fans. He didn't need a repeat of the the witch in Wales over a year ago who claimed she'd die if he didn't let her carry his children. The escaping would have to be planned later, as he didn't yet have a good idea of the castle layout. With a wave of his wand and a low-spoken word, his bed folded itself neatly up, even fluffing his pillow before settling back down. While he changed into a fresh set of underclothes and uniform, he looked over the short stack of parchment on his dresser, reviewing his class schedule along with when the breaks and meals were. One of the notes in the stack was from Karkaroff, stating he would escort Viktor to submit his name in the Goblet of Fire that evening.

Just as he reached for his boots, a crack of thunder outside the ship had him sighing mentally. There would be no outdoor workout for him that day. The last thing he needed was to start his final schoolyear with a cold. Stripping down to his A-shirt and boxer-briefs again, he tossed his shirt and pants on the bed. He couldn't wait to get outside and run, take the fresh Scottish air into his lungs, hear all the sounds of the wildlife. In the meantime, he dropped his wand on the bed and, as before, expended minimal effort to create the pillow of shifting air that kept him levitated enough that he could run on it. He'd been jogging for about thirty minutes when Yan poked his head in the door. "Da," Viktor said in acknowledgment when he saw him.

"I am glad you are up. Did you get Karkaroff's note?" Yan asked as he stepped inside, but left the door open due to Viktor causing the somewhat small room to be rather warm and scented with fresh sweat.

"Da," he replied between carefully-timed breaths. He stared straight at the wall in front of him as he jogged, only glancing to Yan as he spoke.

"Good. I haff to get going. Break'vast is in vourty-vive minutes or so," he said as Viktor nodded to him. Yan stepped out, closing the door behind him. About five minutes later, Viktor dismissed the pillow of air with a mere thought and landed gently on his feet. He snagged his towel from where he left it on the back of the chair drying last night and went to take a brief shower. When he got back to his room, he put his uniform back on, laced up his boots, and grabbed his books from the bottom drawer of his dresser, tucking the sheets of parchment inside the cover of one, including the letter to his parents he'd written the night before. Ensuring he had his favorite quill somewhere in the stack, he stepped from the room and headed for the longboats, snuffing the candles just as the door shut.

Viktor walked through the castle with three other Durmstrangs, passing a map of the castle between each of them. Karkaroff had already known about the Tournament's age-limit, so he only brought last-year students on the trip, despite his confidence in Viktor ultimately being chosen. As such, most of the Durmstrangs had greatly varying schedules, as the last-year students took mostly elective classes. Despite this, the four of them ended up having the first class together, Muggle Studies, and dropped off their books in the appropriate classroom before heading to the Great Hall for breakfast.

As the four of them stepped into the Great Hall and made their way to the Slytherin table, the conversations around them seemed to silence for a few moments, only coming back to life in hushed tones at first. Slowly, the chattering grew back to where it had before their entrance. Viktor spotted the annoying trio from the night before already at the table, sitting fairly close to the door, probably so they could spot Viktor as soon as he came for breakfast. They succeeded. Draco looked as though he was getting ready to stand and greet the Bulgarian formally, and Viktor swore he could see a slip of parchment beneath Crabbe's sleeve. Taking the initiative, Viktor spoke in Bulgarian to the schoolmate that was in the front-position of the small group. _"Yuri, there is something wrong about that blonde one. I do not know what, but keep walking. We should sit at the other end,"_ he said while keeping his eyes forward.

Yuri wasn't as close of a friend to Viktor as Yan was, but he still trusted Viktor enough to not question him at the moment. _"Sure,"_ he replied, also keeping his words in Bulgarian. _"You want to just avoid them altogether?"_

"_If I could do that all year, it would be better than winning the Cup,"_ Viktor said as they strode by the Slytherin trio, showing no intention of stopping to say hello, keeping their eyes straight ahead. Out of the corner of his eye, Viktor caught the look on Draco's face, his mouth slightly open as though he was going to say something, but never did as they simply walked by without a glance. _"Thank you, friends,"_ Viktor continued once they reached the far end of the Slytherin table and they each started to grab a plate from the stack. Yuri sat on the same bench as Viktor, placing himself between his friend and the one to be avoided. The other two stepped around the table to sit across from them, effectively giving Draco no way to get Viktor's attention unless he walked down the entire length of the table and came up directly behind him. Viktor wasn't entirely sure Draco wouldn't do exactly that.

The blonde seemed to take the hint, at least for now. He had all year, after all. Once the four of them were seated, each had a plate, and were starting to pick various items from the table to sate the growl in more than one stomach, one of the others in the small group looked to Viktor. Following suit, he kept to the Bulgarian tongue. _"So... what was that all about?"_ Anton asked before stuffing almost a whole pumpkin roll in his mouth. He was fully into yet another growth spurt and lately seemed to eat as though it were a competition. He's shot up eight-centimeters since this time last year.

Making sure he didn't look towards Draco to hint what they were talking about, Viktor shook his head slightly as he poured his pumpkin juice. "_There is something wrong with that one. Not just annoying, something really wrong. I have sat in the middle of over a dozen girls all clawing, crying, and begging me for Merlin knows what. But sitting next to just him.... It sent my skin crawling. I felt like I was suffocating."_ He served himself various items from the table and they all started to dig in. As they ate, they discussed various reasons why Draco might have given Viktor those vibes. Theories ranged from his girly-colored hair, to his demeanor, to even the way he might smell. The conversation shifted towards what classes each of them were taking that year, which got a few chuckles directed towards Viktor when they found out he was taking yet another year of Care of Magical Creatures. He refrained from telling them what he intended to do with the knowledge after he stepped out of the Quidditch spotlight, and friends that they were, they didn't press the issue. When they finished and were headed for their class, they continued their conversation as they walked by Draco and his two wingmen, not even giving them a glance that might encourage them to say hello.

Viktor thought it best to get a great deal of the autographs out of the way as soon as possible. As they were leaving Muggle Studies, Viktor asked Yuri how many students attended Hogwarts. He said there was roughly a thousand and probably a fairly even split of male and female. Five of the female half were waiting for Viktor when they entered the hallway. Yuri chuckled and waved to Viktor as he walked off. _"Only 495 to go!"_ he called in Bulgarian. To this, Viktor simply smirked before taking the first parchment offered to him.

The rest of the day progressed rather smoothly, despite the constant drizzle that promised to become a full thunderstorm by nightfall. Draco seemed to either not have any classes near Viktor's, or he really did take the hint that Viktor didn't want to talk to him or his two friends. Viktor found he and Yuri both had Advanced Transfiguration for their second class, which focused on the more difficult animals, such as non-mammals. After the second class was a short break, during which Viktor and Yuri took the opportunity to walk the halls a bit and learn the layout of the castle. They passed by several other Durmstrangs doing the same thing, as well as the Beauxbaton ladies. Yuri didn't bother trying to hide it as he strained his neck to watch the trio of ladies adorned in blue walk past them and down the corridor for quite a while. "You are about to v'alk into a v'all," Viktor said on a smirk, which had Yuri spinning his head back around, only to find out Viktor had been joking with him.

Yuri and Viktor split up when Yuri had Herbology and Viktor had Advanced Care of Magical Creatures. Viktor was quietly thrilled that the class had exactly what he was looking for – Class4 Creatures, the highest level of creatures that were not known wizard-killers or impossible to tame, but still required a highly skilled hand. On the list of creatures they would be studying, he saw the two that were the precise reasons he took this class. He gave a slow smile and looked back up to Professor Plank**, who was indicating on a large map where each of the species on the list would be studied on the school grounds and during what time of the year. He made careful mental notes on the two he was most interested in, though any students watching him might say he looked moderately bored at the time.

Lunch was much the same as breakfast. Viktor sat with the same Durmstrangs as the first meal, a few more joining their group as well. They kept to speaking Bulgarian, in case curious ears were too near for comfort, but mostly chatted about their classes. Several expressed their regret at not completing the final year of their magical education at their native school, but it was levied by the excitement of the Tournament, which hadn't taken place in nearly 200 years. During the break after lunch, Yan found Viktor signing more autographs and told him where to meet Karkaroff before dinner. After the break, two of the other Durmstrangs had High Potions with Viktor. Among the potions they would learn that year were Blood-Replenishing, Dreamless Sleep, and Black Fire. Viktor noticed the course seemed to lean towards more complicated protection and healing potions.

Once the final bell rang and the students were released to their own whims until dinner, Viktor made his way to the Entrance Hall to meet with Karkaroff. Instead, he found Yan. "D'ere you are," Yan said on a smile as Viktor walked up. Just as he clasped his friend's hand, a roll of thunder promised to keep the grounds thoroughly soaked throughout the night. "Karkaroff v'ill be out in a moment. He said he had to talk to da head of Slyv'der'in house," he continued before releasing Viktor's hand. "Give d'ose here." Yan motioned to Viktor's books, which he handed over with an arched brow. "It v'ill not do for you to be sh'offling d'em between your hands v'hen you are reaching for da cup."

Viktor kept his brow arched and looked his friend up and down briefly. "You seem to ve more excited d'an anyv'one else, Yan." Viktor chuckled and shook his head after a moment.

"Da, call it 'excitement vy associ'vation,' if you v'ill," he replied on a smirk before stuffing the entire stack of Viktor's books into his right pant pocket.

Viktor stared at Yan's pocket, which now harmlessly held his lax hand, before looking back up to his face. "Since v'hen to you keep Undet'acktav'ul Ek'sten'chun on your pockets?" he inquired with that same arched brow.

To this, Yan gave a sly chuckle before speaking. "Since Karkaroff, v'or some reason, became obsessed with keeping copies of certain parchments v'ithin reach at all times. Do not ask how many I have in my left pocket... I have lost count." Yan smirked before his face became instantly impassive and professional at seeing Karkaroff approach.

Viktor noticed the change in Yan's expression and the fact that he was looking over his shoulder. Taking the hint, Viktor turned on his heel to face the HighMaster and squared his shoulders. "Good effening, HighMaster," he said with a brief nod of his head.

"I trust your first day here went well, Krum," Karkaroff said as he approached the two, stopping in front of Viktor, who nodded to his statement.

"Da, HighMaster. Da professors here seem very competent and eager to teach. I look vorward to completing da year here," Viktor replied, trying to compliment the Hogwarts professors, but not appear to put them above those of Durmstrang.

Karkaroff seemed to study Viktor for several moments. "Come," he said simply before turning and heading towards the west wing, Yan and Viktor quickly following. He turned before reaching the actual wing however, and stepped into a study room that was currently empty. Yan and Viktor came in behind him, Yan mindfully closing the door and waiting by it. Karkaroff continued about a dozen paces into the room before turning to face Viktor, who had followed by his side. Viktor had never seen Karkaroff so deep in thought when he looked down to his face. In a split second, a hundred emotions flashed through the HighMaster's eyes before he gently laid his hands on Viktor's shoulders and looked him square in the face. His tone lowered to one less commanding than he usually presented, which caught Viktor rather by surprise, but he kept his reaction in check and remained impassive in appearance. "Viktor," Karkaroff began. "You have been the closest thing to a son that I have ever had. I never put a woman through the hell of being with me and so I never sired. But when I noticed you in your second year, when you just starting to grow up, I thought that if I had a son, I would want him to be like you. Tonight, you will put your name in the Goblet and you will achieve glory beyond any other means. But none of that will matter if you cannot have the pride of a son as I have in you now. Do not be the fool that I was. Make sure that what you do with your life has purpose."

Viktor stood there rather dumbstruck by the HighMaster's words. Even as reserved as Karkaroff tried to be at that moment, Viktor could sense that there was a great deal of emotion behind every syllable. He allowed it all to sink in before taking a slow breath and giving a thoughtful nod to him. "Da, HighMaster. Glory v'ithout purpose v'ould be v'orthless," he said after a long moment of contemplation.

"Exactly." Karkaroff nodded and withdrew his hands from Viktor's shoulders, looking to him for another moment before turning back to Yan at the door. He was now standing at a nearby desk, a small piece of parchment and quill waiting for Viktor. Needing no instruction, Viktor walked straight over to the desk and wrote his name in clear letters, putting his thoughts of what the HighMaster had said into the ink, if it were possible. _Glory without purpose is worthless._ He rolled the thought around in his mind as he handed the quill back to Yan and looked to Karkaroff while folding the paper in half. The HighMaster nodded and led them from the room, Yan closing the door as he followed them out.

When the trio reached the Entrance Hall, Karkaroff paused momentarily, motioning for Viktor to take the lead into the Great Hall where the Goblet awaited. As they approached, Viktor heard the chanting of other students, mostly Hogwarts from the sound of it. Durmstrangs shared deeper tones due to their heritage, and the Beauxbatons likely had very feminine notes. In all likelihood, they were students gathered to see who would submit their names for the Tournament, supporting those too young and cheering those brave enough. Viktor tuned it all out, narrowing his eyes slightly as he kept his gaze straight ahead, focusing his mind on that one thought. _Glory without purpose is worthless._ He repeated it in his mind as he turned into the Great Hall and headed straight for the enchanted blue flame directly before him. _Glory without purpose is worthless._ The room fell silent as Viktor approached the Goblet, flanked by Yan and Karkaroff. _Glory without purpose is worthless._ He crossed the AgeLine as though he didn't even notice it, which he mostly didn't in his concentration. Reaching up to the Goblet, he let the paper fall into the flame. He recited the words once more as he turned. _Glory without..._ As he turned to walk away, his gaze fell to one of the female Hogwarts students. A young lady sitting with a book in her lap, watching him with quiet curiosity. It was the same girl as he'd seen in the corridor after the Welcoming Feast. He was sure of it. In less than a second, the took her in. Auburn-brown curls that fell just past her shoulders. Eyes that seemed to be made of chocolate melted from the light of the Fire. And the tiniest of smiles on her soft-rose lips. It took less than a second from the moment the paper left his fingers until he was turned back around and striding out the way he came. But in that moment, his lips matched that young lady's in the faintest of smiles.

…_purpose..._

After they left the Great Hall, Yan handed Viktor back his books as they followed Karkaroff through one of the courtyards towards the longboats. As Karkaroff caught sight of the owl tower, he stopped almost abruptly, turning to Viktor. "Have you written to parents? I know your father would like to know how your last year is starting and your mother always worries too much."

"Not yet, HighMaster. I thought to send it tonight after dinner," Viktor said as he reached into the outside cover of one of the books and withdrew the letter he'd prepared the night before.

"You should go now. With all of the other students writing home, there may not be many rested owls left to depart tonight. I have business after dinner and will be unavailable until tomorrow. As such, I wish you good night," he said before giving a bow from the waist to Viktor.

"To you too, HighMaster," Viktor replied, mirroring the bow before Karkaroff and Yan walked out of sight towards the boat house. Looking to the owl tower, Viktor cocked a brow at Karkaroff's accurate statement. There was indeed a lack of owls flying around the tower, as there seemed to have been a surplus when they'd first arrived and he'd seen it much earlier that day. In fact, there didn't seem to be any at all. He wondered if Yan had remembered to take Dimitar to the tower, Viktor's owl since his father had given him the nearly solid black creature on his tenth birthday, making him no longer a family pet, but more of Viktor's personally. As he tried to find his way through the twisting hallways and another courtyard, he remembered that Dimitar rarely delivered letters for anyone outside of the Krum family. And even then, one of them pretty much had to hand the bird the letter themselves anyway.

Despite his walk with Yuri earlier to learn the layout of the castle, it still took a solid ten minutes for him to find the pathway leading up to the owl tower. When he looked up to the room atop the tower, he caught a hint of movement inside. _Good._ He thought to himself. _There is at least one owl up there. I would be willing to bet it is Dimitar._ He made his way up the steps, carefully avoiding the... decorations all the owls of the first day had made on the surrounding area.

As he turned on the second-to-last landing before getting to the top room, Viktor heard someone that seemed to be arguing. Though it seemed that they were arguing with themselves, as he only heard one voice. A female voice. "Oh please!" he heard the female say in a pleading tone. Slowing his pace, he listened carefully, making his steps as silent as possible. If this young woman was arguing with a boy, Viktor was not one to stand by and allow any harm to come to her. Proper respect towards all women was one of the lessons at the forefront of his father's teachings in growing up. "It's just one letter! Why won't you do it?" Approaching slowly, Viktor heard the very slight flutter of wings just after a few muffled steps of shoes, repeating in this pattern. "Please, please, please! I promised them that I would write the first day. Won't you be a sweetheart and do this for me?" As the young lady said the word "sweetheart," Viktor's breath caught in his throat. For some unknown reason, hearing that word from that voice in that sweet and trying-to-be-seductive tone was like a moment of glowing warmth to his entire being. Whoever she was, he wasn't about to let someone deny that sweet voice whatever she was begging for at this moment, as she had surely dropped to the level of begging with her next tone. "For Merlin's sake! You're the only one left who doesn't need rest. Those other five just came in and won't be ready until morning. What makes you such a special owl that you refuse a simple request for a letter delivery?" Just as she was saying the last sentence, Viktor finally came up to the doorway and looked inside. He saw what was surely the back of that lovely young lady that was watching him place his name in the Goblet. Her head tilted up, she was looking to one of the higher shelves in the room where the owls made their roosts. With only his head peeking out to see was a very dark, very non-compliant owl. Dimitar. "Please," she begged the refusing owl. "If you deliver the letter to my parents, I'll... um... well... What do you like to eat?"

With a silent smile, Viktor raised his left forearm before him. Dimitar caught the movement and immediately recognized his master, dropping from his roost near the room's ceiling to glide swiftly and land on the offered perch of Viktor's arm. The young lady followed the owl's movements, holding a sealed envelope out to him, which was blatantly ignored by the creature. "His v'avorite is duck," he said as he looked from the owl on his arm to the lady now standing before him.

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Woohoo! My first cliffy! I know, I'm ebil. :-)  
Don't forget to review please!

**For the sake of story-flow, I decided Professor Wilhelmina Grubbly-Plank was the Care of Magical Creatures teacher for the whole year, leaving Hagrid to care for the Beauxbaton Abraxans, Blast-Ended Skrewts, and other fun fuzzies.


	5. Owl Tower

**Note:** All previous warnings and disclaimers still apply.

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"I hope Dimitar is not giffing you trouble, miss," Viktor said as he looked to the owl who was starting to preen his feathers while perched on his arm. Just as the bird ruffled itself as though to shake off a chill, the drizzle that had temporarily calmed down outside started to pick back up, causing Viktor to instinctively move further into the room. The few steps brought him within arm's distance of the very nervous looking brunette Gryffindor.

"Oh... Well..." She fumbled with the parchment envelope in her hand as her eyes feel to the floor. Tugging at her lower lip nervously with her teeth, she tried to tuck the envelope out of sight behind her robe. "No, not at all. I see that he has an owner," she said as she motioned to the owl on Viktor's arm. She realized a second too late that she had motioned with the hand still holding her letter, quickly tucking it back behind herself again.

Viktor arched a brow as a look of concern took his face. Being quite observant, he pieced together what was going on. "Is your letter of great impord'ance?" he asked as he cocked his head slightly to the side, allowing the faintest smile to come to his lips.

"Er..." the young lady tried to say as she bit at her lower lip again. Slowly, she brought the letter before her, turning it over in her hands as her gaze fell down to it. She hadn't looked Viktor in the face for more than two seconds since he came into the room. "It's just a letter for my parents, really. It can wait until morning. The other owls will be rested by then." She shook her head slightly as she continued to fumble with the parchment. "It's my own fault, really. I shouldn't have waited until so late. All the students write home on their first day. I should have known all the owls would be gone by now," she continued in a nervous ramble.

"If you v'ill excuse me, but I overheard v'at you were saying to Dimitar. D'at you had promised to write da first day. It v'ould be very rude of me to stand here and see d'at promise broken," he said in a gentle voice, seeing as she was nervous enough as it was. Truth be told, he wasn't far behind her. Only holding his two books in one hand and Dimitar on the other kept him from fidgeting. When she slowly brought those soft brown eyes up to his face, he took a measured breath and swallowed a bit roughly. Now that he saw them for more than a split-second, he thought those eyes were absolutely beautiful.

"I couldn't ask you to have your owl deliver my letter. He's yours, after all. And besides, I'm sure you came up here to have a letter of your own delivered." She seemed to be studying his face as she stood before him, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear as she canted her head to the side.

"May I make an offer for a trade d'en? I v'ill haff Dimitar deliver your letter if..." He left the sentence unfinished, hanging in the air as he silently prayed for her to be willing enough to ask him to finish the proposition. He still gave her the chance to turn it down outright, but he wished she wouldn't.

"...If...?" she pried as she turned the letter over in her hands again.

Viktor gave a silent cheer to himself, hoping it didn't show on his face as he continued. "... if you v'ill tell me your name."

The blush that came to the young lady's face was nearly the color of the Durmstrang scarlet emblem. Viktor thought it did magical things to her eyes, even though those eyes instantly dropped to the floor between them, her teeth doing that tiny tug on her lip while a nervous smile crept onto her face. A moment later, she brought her gaze back up to meet Viktor's. Passing the letter to her left hand, she extended her right to him. "Hermione. Hermione Granger," she said as the tiny smile spread to become a full one.

"A pleasure to meet you, Miss Granger." Without a conscious thought, Viktor set his books in the air to his side, creating a tiny billow of spinning wind beneath them and causing them to rotate flat as they sat one on top of the other. He took Hermione's hand and bent over it to place a delicate kiss to her knuckles. He would have given his own name upon rising, however as his lips met her warm skin, he heard her breath catch and felt her hand squeeze his a bit tighter. Terrified he'd done something wrong or offended her, he froze where he was and lifted his gaze back to her face.

Her eyes were trained on his floating books. "How did you do that?" she said nearly breathlessly. "You... you didn't have your wand out and you didn't say any incantation. You just... put them there," she practically whispered as she watched the books slowly spin next to him.

Thanking his lucky stars that it wasn't the kiss to her hand that had her feeling awkward, Viktor gave another faint brush of his lips over the back of her hand. He didn't let go of her hand as he stood back up and turned slightly to give her a better look at the books. He was so used to the other Durmstrangs being accustomed to his use of minor elemental magic by thought alone that it took him several moments to realize what she was talking about. That and the fact that he was so grateful she wasn't offended by the kiss to her hand. "It is an elemental spell my fa'dder taught me. He insisted d'at I know all of da minor v'ones v'ell en'uff to not need v'and or v'ords," he explained, his accent extra thick in his moment of uncertainty regarding her. He looked from the books back to her face, which was now showing a look of awe, complete with her mouth just slightly open. Convincing himself to seize the opportunity, Viktor flicked his left wrist to send Dimitar to a nearby roost, then transferred Hermione's hand from his right to his left. Motioning with his right hand, he brought the spinning air and books directly in front of her, slowly bringing her hand into the churning air with his left. He turned her hand over, bringing it palm-up underneath the books, allowing the tips of her fingers to feel the breeze that kept the books aloft.

"I wish I had your talent," she said in a quiet voice as though she pined for such power. "I feel so helpless if I don't have my wand, sometimes." She was so in awe of the spell he performed without any visible effort, she didn't even realize she'd given the small confession.

The tiny voice in Viktor's head that told him to go for the opportunities in life was now screaming at him. In his experience, he knew that when that voice spoke up, he needed to listen. He swallowed a bit hard, then tried to speak in a quiet yet confident voice, hoping it didn't crack with how nervous he was at what he was thinking. "I could teach you." He wasn't even sure if he could, but he was willing to try his damnedest if it meant spending time with this lovely young lady and getting to know her better.

"What?!" she said as her head spun around to face him, her body quickly following. The rain had started to come steadily, now spreading puddles in the open-air owl roost room. When Hermione spun, her foot found one of those puddles on a slick stone and she quickly headed for the floor, shoulder first.

In that split-second, a single word went through Viktor's mind: No. With that thought, the pillow of spinning air beneath his books ceased and reappeared beneath Hermione, though considerably larger, large enough to catch her. His books landed on the floor with a mild splash in the puddle she'd slipped on. They both froze for several seconds, assessing the situation. With his left hand still holding her right, Viktor slowly pulled Hermione to her feet, his right hand coming around her waist to help her upright. As he lifted her, the pillow of swirling air assisted in bringing her up. "Са ви наскърбявам?" he muttered as he consciously forced himself to breathe. His eyes danced over her entire form as his features held a look of genuine concern before returning to her face.

Hermione's breath caught somewhere in her throat when she was drawn up to stand within a foot of Viktor, one hand in his and the other on his arm that was around her waist. "Em... what did you say?" she finally managed when she remembered how to speak. Her soft brown eyes were held captive by his dark ones that teetered towards black.

Realizing he'd slipped into his native tongue in his moment of panic, Viktor shook his head slightly before returning to English. "I am sorry. I asked if you v'ere hurt." With great reluctance, he released her hand and very slowly withdrew his other from her waist. The imprint of her tiny curve from beneath her robes still lingered in his palm and fingers.

"Oh, no. I think I'm alright. Just startled, thank you." Hermione proceeded to brush off her robes as though checking for any dirt that might have gotten on them when she half-fell, trying to hid the nervousness that was surely written on her face. "I don't think I even touched the floor, really." Fumbling with the letter, now partially crushed, in her left hand, she tucked that rebellious lock of hair behind her ear again with her right. "Thank you," she repeated before adding after a very slight pause, "Viktor."

He couldn't help but grin to her already knowing his name. "I see my repu'dation precedes me." His eyes wandered from her face down the letter she was still fumbling with, then back to her eyes. "Now d'at we know each odd'er, may I complete my part of da trade?" he asked tentatively while motioning to her letter.

"Are you sure it isn't any trouble?" she asked as she fidgeted with the letter for a moment longer before handing it to him.

"No trouble at all," he replied as he took the letter from her, his fingers brushing hers for the briefest moment. Her tender warmth lingered on his hand even as he motioned for Dimitar with his other. The well-trained creature swooped onto Viktor's arm without hesitation. He showed the front of the letter to the bird before handing it to his companion and allowing him to launch into the air, powerful wings taking him toward his destination. "He is trained to v'ait for a reply before returning. Do not v'orry. He is v'ell trained and v'ill make sure your d'ey get it soon." Viktor's eyes followed the bird until it banked to one side and flew out of sight. Once he couldn't see his companion any more, he looked back to Hermione, meeting her soft brown gaze. "So, Miss Granger-" Hermione cut him off by raising her hand slightly.

"Please, just Hermione. I know I would feel awkward calling you 'Mister Krum' all the time," she said before a slight chuckle escaped her.

"Very v'ell then. Hermy-own-ninny," he stammered in his attempt of her name. Knowing it came out totally wrong from his accent, it was now Viktor's turn to flush scarlet. "Sorry," said simply on a boyish grin.

She did that tug of her bottom lip that he was quickly starting to find very amusing, even adorable. "It's alright. I imagine it's not a common name where you come from."

"Indeed," he replied before continuing. "V'ould you like me to teach you? You said you v'ished you could do d'em."

"You... you would really be willing to teach me?" she asked with what Viktor swore to be stars in her eyes. He could refuse nothing to those eyes.

"Cerd'enly. It v'ill take some time, but I v'ill be here da entire year. V'en v'ould you like to start?" She could have asked him to start teaching her right there in that dirty, wet, and slightly smelly owl-roost room and he would have obliged. There was an undeniable pull he was feeling towards her, and he wasn't about to fight it.

"Well," she said before thinking for a few moments. "I'm planning on dropping my last class, the one after lunch. It seems, for some unfathomable reason, that I was given Divination again this year. I quit last year because of that ridiculous Professor Trelawney. But as it seems she is still teaching that class, I will be dropping it again this year."

Doing a bit of math and scheduling in his head, a slow grin slipped onto Viktor's face. "So d'en, you will be free af'der lunch until dinnertime?"

"Yes, we could get together some days then. If your own schedule will allow it, that is?" she asked.

Viktor suddenly found Potions class quite unimportant. "I v'ill be free at d'at time as v'ell. V'ere should I meet you?"

"Um..." Hermione thought for a few more moments, muttering a bit as she did. "You'd get overrun by girls if we met outside of the Tower. Most of the classrooms are taken at the time. Oh! I know!" she said excitedly as she found the answer. "We could meet in the Greenhouse. I think it's number four that's closest to the outside door. I was talking with Neville earlier. He's another Gryffindor," she added as Viktor gave an inquisitive expression to the name. "He's Professor Sprout's favorite student. But he said she only had classes in the morning this year, so she can rest in the afternoon before her after-dark special classes. Evidently she has some strange plants this year that only bloom at night, and there's a separate class for them once it's dark out. That means the greenhouse would be empty after lunch," she said on a smile. That smile was mirrored on Viktor's face.

"Vonderv'ul," he said, though he wasn't so much referring to her words. In his mind, he was referring to what the excitement did for her eyes. Her eyes looked wonderful. "Tomorrow d'en?" he asked as he extended his hand to her as though to shake on the deal.

"Certainly. I look forward to it," she replied as she slipped her hand into his. Instead of simply shaking it however, he bowed low over her hand and placed another soft kiss to her knuckles. His sharp ears heard her breath stutter for less than a split-second, but he caught it none the less. Standing upright again, he slowly released her hand, which she used to tuck that same lock of hair back again. The nervousness that had been subsided in her excitement of learning the wordless-wandless magic now came back in full force. "Well, I'd... better be going then," she stammered as she started towards the door. "I will see you tomorrow then... Viktor," it was almost like she took great care when saying his name, he noticed.

"Until d'en," he said with a nod and a small, nearly secret smile as she ducked out of sight. As Hermione headed down the stairs, he stepped over to watch her run through the rain, pulling the hood of her Gryffindor cloak over her head and dashing towards one of the buildings attached to the main castle. "Tomorrow v'ill be quite ind'eresd'ing," he mused before bending down to pick up his water-logged books. A simple wave of his hand and the water removed itself from the bound parchment, dripping to the floor and allowing the pages to dry unharmed. Peeking inside the cover of the top one, he pulled out the letter of his parents, deciding it probably should be rewritten and new events added to it before he sent it in the morning. "Very ind'eresd'ing indeed..."

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Sorry it took a while to update. Work has been very busy these past two weeks.

Remember – Reviews make me happy and want to update faster ;)


	6. Make It Dance

**Note:** All previous warnings and disclaimers still apply.

I've been getting quite a few reviews and comments on my story, so I thought I would do as so many others have done and reply to them here!

**Ryn: **My first, best, and most loyal reader! Thank you for the warm wishes and encouragement! You're a big reason why I had the courage to continue with this story!

**Gemma: **I definitely agree that Krum is very under-appreciated.

**Ray: **I don't know why, but your review made me grin and blush. Thank you :)

**Lamb:** I giggle every time I re-read her chasing the owl with her letter thrust toward it begging him ;)

**Kathy: **Thank you so much for your generous words. These reviews mean a lot to me.

**3Wishes:** Shinanagans! You mind-reader! I forgot to mention the reason they were speaking English in the first chapter, but I'd already planned on fixing it in this chapter. It actually plays into the story and hints to later events, as you'll see ;)

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Viktor was awake long before his Howler flitted up from its place on the desk and started to bark at him. It didn't even get through the first insult before he tossed a small current of air at it to silence it. It was only a momentary distraction from the sit-ups he was already halfway through. He'd already started developing a schedule in his head, with alternate settings available for when the Scottish weather finally turned friendly. For now however, his exercises were restricted to indoor settings, especially since he didn't want his new protege catching ill from him if he caught a cold in the rain. _Hermione._ Her name fluttered through his mind for what had to be the hundredth time that morning, followed by the image of her eyes, those eyes that looked as two drops of warm, melted chocolate. After his last sit-up, Viktor allowed himself to lay back on the floor of his bunk, staring up at the ceiling as he let the image of her dance through his head. He lifted his right hand and looked to his fingertips, where he'd held her soft curve for mere seconds. Closing his fist and taking a deep breath, he shut his eyes and scolded himself in his thoughts. _You are losing it, Krum. You have only laid eyes on her for two days. What has got you so enthralled by her? _Inhaling sharply, Viktor unhooked his feet from under his bed, lifted them slightly, then popped his body up to land neatly on his feet with only minimal assistance from his hands. Maneuvering a broom with mostly his legs while his arms reached for a Snitch had given him both strength and agility for moves as such.

"Epoximise." The barely uttered word from outside his door had Viktor snapping back from his thoughts. Stepping over to the door, he pulled it open to find the ship's house elf smoothing a piece of parchment to his door while hovering about a meter in the air. "Ah!" The elf, which was more wrinkled than the parchments clutched in his hand, nearly fell from where he was hovering at being startled. Only Viktor's quick reflexes grabbing the small creature's arm saved him from a quick trip to the floor. _"Thank you, master. Viddy is sorry, master!"_ The house-elf said in Bulgarian in a sorrowful tone to Viktor, his eyes matching the emotion of his words.

"_What is this?"_ Viktor said as he set the house-elf on the floor gently and turned his head to the parchment now firmly attached to the outside of his door at roughly eye-level.

"_It be from Master Karkaroff,"_ Viddy replied, bowing his head submissively. _"Master Karkaroff said Viddy is to put one on each door so all students will know."_

Viktor nodded and waved a hand to the house-elf, continuing to read the notice. _"Go on then."_ Viddy bowed and moved on to the next door, re-casting his hover charm so he could reach eye-level once there. Viktor read over the notice and arched a brow, wondering what was up...

_**Attention all Durmstrang students!**_

_Be sure to attend breakfast in the Hogwarts Great Hall this morning as early as possible._

_You are not to leave the Great Hall until everyone has received the announcement to be made there._

_I will be unavailable until the Goblet of Fire ceremony on Thursday night._

_Yan will speak for me until then._

_-HighMaster Karkaroff_

What could this announcement be? Why didn't he simply say it on the parchment notice? And why wasn't Karkaroff taking Yan with him in whatever he's doing? He hardly went anywhere without his most trusted aide within arm's reach. Viktor shook his head and went back into his room, peeling his A-shirt off to look at himself in just his boxer-briefs in the mirror. He'd trained hard over the summer months, especially after the Quidditch World Cup loss. He still took that loss personally. If he'd been faster at grabbing the damn snitch, he could have ended the match much faster and won. As it stood, he barely saved them from a landslide loss. If the other Seeker had caught the snitch, they would have suffered a disgraceful 320-10 loss. He wasn't about to let it come to that ever again. He performed the usual male ritual of self-inspection in front of the full-length mirror hanging next to his bed, flexing here, posing there. Satisfied that there was little to be improved upon (Hey, he's still a guy), Viktor grabbed his towel from the dresser drawer where one of the house-elves had put it after being laundered and made his way to the showers. He passed by Yuri, who was reading the notice on his own door while yawning performing yet another male ritual of scratching through his shorts. _"Morning,"_ he said as he walked by, which Yuri replied to by simply grunting in his state of not being fully awake.

At the breakfast table, the Durmstrangs chattered amongst themselves in Bulgarian, trying to figure out what the announcement could be. Some of them had already asked a few of the Hogwarts and Beauxbaton students, and it seemed the announcement was limited to just the Northeners. As instructed, they were all there when Yan arrived about three-quarters through the breakfast time-period. As he made his way to the end of the table so all the Durmstrangs could see him, and to further emphasis that he spoke for Karkaroff at the moment, the young men fell silent and all eyes followed him. Viktor couldn't help but smile inwardly to his best friend. He carried the authority well. Once standing at the end of the table with his hands clasped behind his back, Yan looked over the group a bit slowly, likely taking a quick headcount to ensure they were all there. "I see dat you all got your notices," he began, speaking English. "As you are aware den, I speak for Karkaroff today, tomorrow, and Thursday until da Goblet of Fire ceremony dat night. He said dat he vill be in contact with da prov'essors and da Hogwarts HeadMaster during dis time." Yan looked over his audience before speaking again, ensuring he had their full attention. "Da announcement mentioned on your notices was dis: As vas discussed in da meeting after our arrival-"

"You mean the one about birds, bees, and sirens?" Anton interrupted, rousing a quite a few chuckles from the other Durmstrangs.

Yan gave Anton a level look, telling him without words to shut it. "Yes, dat one. As I was saying, you vere all told to speak in English vile ve are here, including on da ship, so dat it becomes habit. Karkaroff vas made avare that you have been speaking o'der languages among yourselves. For some reason, Karkaroff says it is ov da greatest impord'ance dat ve speak da same language as our hosts, as it vill show ve are not hiding anyt'ing and can be trusted."

"Why would they not trust us? They let us sit with them and-" Yuri's questions were cut off by Yan raising a silencing hand.

"He said it had somet'ing to do wit' da past. He v'ould not say more dan dat on it. However...." he said before taking a slow, deep breath. "He did say dat if any of you must be reminded again, dat student is to be sent to the Bottom Deck."

This caused an audible pause in the breathing of the collected group. In the next few seconds, each of the students turned his eyes to Milan for moment, sitting near the middle of the group opposite the side Viktor was seated on. Milan paled visibly and the cup of pumpkin juice in his hand started to shake, causing Yuri next to him to assist the young man in placing it down on the table without spilling. The student on his other side placed a hand on his shoulder while Milan stared at the table before him with ghosts of memories floating across his eyes. They all knew why he was petrified at that moment. Milan had been the one to be sent to the Bottom Deck of the Durmstrang ship during the trip to Scotland. It was supposed to just a practical joke, something to make the trip less boring. But he caught Karkaroff in the wrong mood on the wrong day and had been sent to the Bottom Deck for three days for it. The Deck itself seemed harmless enough, furnished with tables and chairs for meetings or as an impromptu classroom, and now a cot for students sent there. The cot went unused though. The reason the Bottom Deck was never used except for punishment was because of its permanent resident: the Nytemare Poltergeist. So long a person in the Bottom Deck was awake, they were fine. The instant they fell asleep and into the land of dreams however, the poltergeist would invade that person's mind, bringing nightmares of every mental anguish possible. The nightmares weren't of physical violence or bloodshed. The poltergeist was much more crafty than that. It would search in the person's mind to find that which the person treasured most, and give them nightmares of it being torn from their grasp in whichever fashion was most appropriate. Each nightmare was personalized to the victim, making the experience enough to make nearly every victim scream out in their sleep, echoing throughout the ship as a reminder to the others of what fate lay in wait in the Bottom Deck. When the one being punished was allowed to come out, they were always much more obedient and somber, never wanting the experience again. And always afraid to sleep for several days, if not weeks. Milan had managed to stay awake the first two days, but finally passed out during the third. He'd barely spoken since then.

"You cannot be serious," Yuri asked to Yan with a barely restrained glare in his eye.

"I am afraid I am, as dis is Karkaroff's order. He has become very..." Yan sighed as he dropped the authoritative demeanor and leaned forward to place his hands on the edge of the table and lean on them, looking over the group. "Listen... He is da closest t'ing to obsessed as I can t'ink wit' keeping da trust ve have here. I do not know why, but he does not want any ill suspi'chun on us. He vill not tell even me why. He has been on-edge for a v'ile now." The young men glanced between Yan and themselves, trying to figure out what Karkaroff was up to, what he was afraid of. "Just do as he says and ve should be fine. Alright?" The Durmstrangs replied with nods and muttered words of agreement. "Good. Dat was da announcement, so you are free to go now. If you need me, I vill be in da office dey assigned Karkaroff near da courtyard." Seeing as no one had any further questions, Yan excused himself and left the Great Hall. Once he was gone, a few more sympathetic looks were sent Milan's way before they all finished eating and headed for their separate classes.

Viktor listened with only half an ear during Muggle Studies. Instead of taking notes on the lecture of how muggle automobiles operated, he was instead planning and writing out his schedule for the year, balancing his studytime, workout routine for inside and outdoors, and, most importantly, his time with Hermione. He was planning to inform Professor Snape of his desire to drop the class sometime before lunch. With no class for the final period, Viktor's schedule would have a large amount of freetime before dinner for him to do as he pleased. He didn't commit to the schedule he drafted, not yet at least. He still needed to find out just how large of a crowd of giggling girls he'd attract around here. The larger the group, the more of a problem it presented, as it left him with less and less privacy. He decided that if he left a timeblock open for varying activities, maybe it would be harder for the girls to keep track of him, being in a different place each day. He brought his attention back to the present just in time for Professor Burbage to glance at him and believe he'd been paying attention the entire class.

In Transfiguration, Viktor paid a bit more attention. He took notes on how cross-species transfiguration presented obstacles such as the "meeting of the minds," as Professor McGonagall explained it. She presented the instance that a snake would hardly know what do to when its mind is suddenly thrust into a body that not only has arms and legs, but also stands upright and wears clothing. The professor helped the class to understand that the same was applicable to the reverse. "I suspect the majority of you would be quite lost for a while, should you suddenly be presented with the body of something such as spider. All those eyes and legs would likely leave you running into every object within three meters," she said on a chuckle. Viktor took this into consideration, making note to research in his studytime exactly how various animals would present different challenges. This way he would be better prepared for lessons later in the year.

Leaving the class with Yuri, Viktor was once again greeted by a small crowd of autograph-seeking girls. Immediately adorning his well-practiced "charming guy" smile, he took each parchment and signed, knowing better than to try and fight them off. Normally he would make small talk with the girls as he gave the autographs, giving an occasional minor compliment on a girl's eyes or hair. But for some reason, he couldn't find a way to say anything charming without his mind coming back to those auburn curls and soft brown eyes. As such, he simply signed in silence for each girl with his Never-Empty hawk quill, still the best school supply purchase he ever made, in his opinion. As he signed the last one, he caught sight of Draco from the corner of his eye. That mop-top of bright blonde hair stood out like a beacon against the dark stone of the castle walls. Viktor gave only a brief glance towards Malfoy, but it was long enough to catch the scowl the Slytherin directed at him. Viktor suspected it was due to Malfoy seeing him sign autographs for a bunch of girls, but still gave him the cold shoulder. Figuring the boy would get over it soon enough, Viktor headed for Professor Snape's classroom.

Snape didn't put up too much of a fight to Viktor requesting to drop the class. Of course he asked why, but Viktor simply explained that his schedule would be too full. When Viktor explained that he didn't intend on taking the NEWT on Potions anyway, he was all but chased from the classroom, Snape declaring that he had no time to spend on wizards who were not dedicated to what they studied. Obviously Professor Snape was immune to Viktor's fame.

As always, Magical Creatures was Viktor's favorite subject. Fawkes, borrowed by Professor Plank from HeadMaster Dumbledore, absolutely fascinated him. As the professor explained the coloration patterns of different breeds of phoenix and Fawkes happily showed himself off, Viktor took rigorous notes, determined to ace the class with an Outstanding grade for his NEWT.

Anton and Yuri caught up with Viktor on their way to lunch, as well as another pair of girls wanting autographs. Viktor decided not to bother keeping count anymore. They'd all find him eventually. As the trio found their seats and waited for the plates to float into the Great Hall, Yuri started talking about his Herbology class. "It is a bit annoying that our class must be the ones to clean up," he began, keeping to English as they were instructed. "I mean, d'ere vill be one more class each day. It simply is not for several hours. But da professor said she vill not tolerate a messy greenhouse, as dat is how plants cross-breed wit' no supervision." He stuffed half a roll in his mouth, chewing only a few times before continuing to talk, going on about Professor Sprout's story of how a meat-eating plant and a vegetable-eating plant cross-bred several years ago due to a student's negligence and they couldn't figure out what to feed the offspring.

While Yuri went on about plants, Viktor started thinking about what would be waiting among those plants for him. _Hermione._ In the space of about 2 seconds, Viktor's inner emotions went from boredom, to anticipation, to excitement, to outright panic. He managed to hide this from his face, though his eyes reflected everything if anyone was paying that close of attention. He realized he had no idea how he was going to teach Hermione the wordless-wandless magic he knew as well as how to breathe. He'd been so wrapped up in the idea of simply spending more time with her and getting to know her that he'd completely forgotten that he would need to do something so potentially complicated! Anton noticed Viktor had stopped eating, simply staring down at the bat burger he had yet to touch and the pumpkin fries he'd taken maybe two bites of.

"Viktor?" he asked with a touch of real concern. "You alright?"

Viktor shook his head to clear his thoughts, looking to Anton and the few others who were now staring at him with curiosity. "Da. Just t'inking about my schedule. I dropped Potions to have more studytime," he said quickly. He'd always been good at thinking on his feet. Hence why he made such an excellent Seeker. He picked up the bat burger and started to dive in, the other students not questioning his decision of dropping the class. They'd all known him long enough to no longer envy him. With Karkaroff's ever critical eye on him, the girls shadowing his every step, and everyone's expectations of him being so incredibly high despite everything else, they learned to enjoy their much simpler lives by comparison.

With the conversation returning to other things, Viktor's thoughts returned to how exactly he would teach Hermione the elemental magic his father had driven into him since before he could hold a wand. His memories started going back to those first times he tried it, sitting in his father's lap when he was just a boy. His father would.... That was it! He would mimic his father's ways of teaching him from when he was a boy. With a new-found confidence and enthusiasm, Viktor wolfed down the rest of his meal and washed it all down with a large glass of cherry juice. The tart aftertaste puckered his cheek as he wiped his mouth and excused himself from the table. "Where are you going so fast?" one of the others asked as Viktor moved his plate to the area of the table designated for used dishes. "I t'ought you said you had plenty of free time now wit' dropping your last class."

"Da, but dat time has its own schedule. Dat is v'hy I needed it, ot'er t'ings to do. See you at dinner," he replied, giving as casual of a wave as he could manage in his hidden excitement. He nearly forgot to grab his books and the three scrolls of parchment he'd filled in Magical Creatures class before leaving. As he strode out of the Great Hall, he caught sight of her. _Hermione._ She was walking with a red-headed boy with too many freckles and another with dark hair and glasses, the three of them coming in as Viktor was leaving. Viktor eyed the two boys carefully, looking each of them up and down to get an idea of who they might be. Just before Hermione turned her head towards Viktor, the boy in the glasses did first. Viktor caught sight of the scar on the boy's forehead. The-Boy-Who-Lived he realized before his gaze fell to Hermione. Trying not to be too conspicuous, he gave Hermione that tiny smile he'd done when placing his name in the Goblet. As they passed by each other, he caught the tiny smile she sent him as well. Now he was absolutely resolute. He didn't know why, but he wanted to see that smile forever. He'd never felt such a compulsion as this. Oh yes, he would teach her. He would find a way if it killed him.

Viktor immediately made his way to the greenhouse, not wanting Hermione to have to wait on him. Plus he needed a few minutes to think of how exactly he would go about mimicking his father's teachings. As he stepped from the main building and walked around the outer wall of the castle to approach the greenhouses from the outside, he kept a careful eye about himself to check if the group of girls had gathered yet. He counted himself lucky that almost everyone was probably still eating lunch. He'd gotten there early and finished in a hurry, after all. He slowed to a casual stroll as he neared the greenhouse door, keeping his senses open and alert to listen if anyone might still be inside. The last thing he needed was someone knowing where he was and spreading such information when all he wanted was some privacy with one person in particular. Hearing nothing but the gentle wind carrying through the door propped open with a stone garden gnome, Viktor stepped inside and quickly looked around to ensure he was alone. A pair of wickedly-fanged plants in wire cages turned their blossoms toward him as he made his way quietly down the stone walkway, following his movements as a green slime akin to drool leaked from their violet petals.

After another walk around the greenhouse confirmed no one was there besides Viktor and the plants, he found a stone chair in the shape of a flat-top toadstool with a vinework back to set his books and parchment rolls on. "Alright, Viktor," he silently thought to himself. "How are you going to do this? Father's lessons worked well enough. Just do as he did and hope to Merlin you gained his talent for teaching." He started to pace slowly down the stone path that ran the length of the greenhouse, walking from one end to the other as the carnivorous pair of plants continued to follow his movements from behind their cage doors. Viktor was quite caught up in his attempt to remember his father's lessons, scrubbing his hands down his face a time or two even. "I can do dis," he whispered aloud to himself. Never before had he needed to talk himself up so much to accomplish something. His great waves of confidence in other situations seemed like mere pond ripples now.

As he reached the end of the path again and turned on his heel to pace back the opposite direction, he heard a small, quick intake of breath that was not his own. "I'm so sorry. Did I keep you waiting long?" his head immediately jerked to the direction of the voice that was already burned into his mind, a smile already creeping onto his face.

She was standing in the greenhouse doorway, her books in her left hand and her Gryffindor cloak removed and draped over her left arm at the elbow, clutching the books to her chest. Her right hand was near her face, almost touching her lips with her fingers lightly curled, a posture of uncertainty. "Not at all," he replied with a reassuring smile. "In fact, it vas I dat vas vorried of keeping you waiting, so I came early."

She blushed slightly as she came into the greenhouse and placed her books on the same stone chair as Viktor's, being careful not to crush his scrolls. "I was worried of the same thing, so I tried to come as soon as I could," she said as she folded up her cloak and placed it gently over the back of the chair. Turning back around to face him, she tucked that same rebellious lock of hair behind her ear. "I'm afraid it was Ron and Harry that held me up. They tend to be fascinated every year that I take so many classes."

"D'ose two boys dat were wit' you at lunch?" he asked as he stuffed his hands in his pant pockets to keep from fidgeting.

"Yes, they've been my best friends since first year." Viktor almost forgot to hide his sigh of relief when she said they were her friends... just friends.

"Dey haff good taste in friends den," he said with that small smile.

Hermione blushed ever so slightly and tucked that lock of hair back again. "So... do we start today then?" she asked.

Viktor nodded and glanced around, spotting a long stone bench with no back. "Come," he said as he motioned for her to follow him. He took a seat on the bench, straddling it with one leg on either side. He patted the area of the bench in front of him. "I vill teach you da way my fadder taught me," he explained as he watched her sit. She sat down like a lady should, both legs in front of her and crossing her ankles as her legs tucked up slightly under the bench. She laid her hands loosely in her lap as she turned her shoulders toward Viktor so she could see him more squarely. "Da first element vill be air." He could tell that once he started talking about the lesson, he had her undivided attention. "Air is all around us, around you. It is easiest to control because it is alv'ays dere. Breathe."

"I am breathing," she replied with a questioning look.

"No, you are breathing out of habit. Take a deep breath," he motioned with his hands upward in front of his muscular chest, inhaling as he did to demonstrate. "Feel da air in your lungs. T'ink of how dat air giffs life. How it is alv'ays dere around us. You must understand da element before you can control it. Wit'out understanding, da element vill run wild instead of being held." Hermione nodded and tried to do as he instructed. She took a deep breath very quickly, motioning her hands the way he had, but he could tell she didn't do it the way he'd intended. "Slow down," he said gently. "Take slow breath. Let it fill you." He demonstrated again as his eyes stayed on her.

She nodded and tried again, taking the breath more slowly, but Viktor felt there was still something missing. He knew the elements like his own breath, and hers was not doing what his was doing. Frustrated that they'd already found a stumbling point, he thought back to his father's lessons. He tried to figure out what he was doing wrong. Maybe it was the way she was sitting, since his father had moved his hands and such when Viktor was being taught. "Maybe," he began as he glanced to the bench, then to the uniform skirt Hermione was wearing, then back to her face. He swallowed as he forcefully kept his mind from going anywhere but the lesson he was focusing on. If she were more covered up- Ah ha! Viktor's head snapped back around to where Hermione's cloak lay draped over the back of the chair. Pulling his wand from the pocket specially designed for holding it, he pointed it at the cloak and quickly said, "Accio cloak." Hermione's cloak quickly crossed the room and landed in Viktor's empty hand. Stuffing his wand back into the appropriate pocket, he handed Hermione the cloak as he explained. "Here, put it over your legs and sit like me."

"Why do I need to sit like that?" she asked even as she started to unfold the cloak.

"Is how my fadder taught me. I vould sit in his lap wit' by back against his chest. He vould take my hands," he said as he moved his hands with the memories, "and move dem wit' his own hands. He vould square my shoulders, help me sit straight, d'ose t'ings. I t'ink if I could do exac'ly like he did wit' me, I can teach you better." He gave her a warm smile, trying to convey how badly he wanted to succeed at this. He wanted to teach her and for her to be happy with his teachings.

She seemed to understand his need to have her positioned the same way he was when he was learning, and spread the cloak over her legs before swinging one leg over the back of the bench and smoothing out the cloak again. She was still about arm's distance from him and he swallowed rather roughly before reaching out to gently touch her shoulder as she sat facing away from him. "Hermy-own-ninny?" He silently cursed himself for not being able to say her name properly.

"Yes?" she asked as she looked over the shoulder he was touching to see him.

"May I haff your trust?" he asked.

She seemed to consider the question for a moment before nodding slowly. "Um, alright then," she replied tentatively.

Viktor silently cheered himself as he moved his hands to the sides of her waist, taking a gentle grasp of her small curves there and slowly drew her across the polished stone so that she sat closer to him, barely a few centimeters separating her small back from his muscular chest. As he slid her, he heard her sharp intake of breath and her hands went to grasp gently on top of his as though she were trying to retain her balance. He knew that if he hadn't asked permission first, of sorts, she probably would have jumped from his grasp, based on that reaction. Taking the initiative, he flipped his hands outward and gently took hers before she could move them. His worn and calloused fingers were surprisingly gentle while holding her hands, turning her hands delicately to the position he remembered his father had his in when he was a boy. "Feel da air," he said in a hushed tone, maneuvering his head to the side and forward a bit, all but resting his chin on her shoulder. "It is all around you." He began to move her hands, keeping her hands in his with the backs of her hands in his palms, hands facing the same direction. He kept his fingertips lightly interlaced with hers so he could move her hands the way he remembered. As he moved her hands, he could feel her pulse through her hands and fingers. It was racing, much the same as his own. "Breathe," he instructed her as much as himself. He spread both of their arms outward like a bird. As his arms were a bit longer, his elbows were still bent when her arms reached their limit. Being mindful not to strain her arms, he helped her raise them back and up, opening up her chest and abdominal cavities and allow more air into her lungs. As they both took a deep breath, Viktor inadvertently took in the scent of Hermione's hair. It was sweet, but not overdone like a pile of sugar. There was a tartness to it. Oranges, perhaps? No, something sharper. It was an orange kind of citrus, he was certain. He made a mental note to ask her at some point what it was. In the meantime, that scent burned into his brain as one of his top ten favorite smells, if not topping the list altogether.

He nearly forgot what he was doing in that split second. "Feel it in you. Close your eyes if you haff to. Da air is d'ere. You need only to realize it." His voice was barely above a whisper, almost too soft for what one would think the hardened Quidditch star capable of. He brought their arms back down as he exhaled slowly. Her tension was quite noticeable at first, her movements slow to follow his lead. However as he repeated the breathing movement over again five or so times, she slowly loosened up. He even caught from the corner of his eye that she allowed her eyelids to drift closed, finally relaxing. "Feel da air in your lungs. You haff control of it. Feel it swirling inside as you breathe in." He turned his head so he could watch her face carefully. She seemed to be lost in thought finally, where she needed to be. "See it sv'irling in your mind," he whispered. His warm breath found her ear and he could have sworn he noticed her shiver for a split-second. "Now exhale and see it sv'irl in your hands." He brought their joined hands up and forward, so that Hermione's hands where before her at chest level and Viktor's arms were wrapped around her from the outside. Hermione exhaled in a gust into her hands before her, opening her eyes as she did so she could see if there was any effect. Her hands shook gently within his as she tried to make the swirl of air as he'd instructed. Viktor caught a brief feeling of air that went other than it was designed to, though not much. Hermione sighed as she looked to her empty hands before her. "Again." This time when he whispered in her ear, he was certain he caught her shiver. He didn't let it stop him though, inhaling deeply with her once again as he raised their arms.

When he brought their hands back down and in front of her, Viktor's chest came against Hermione's back completely, effectively hugging her from behind as she exhaled into her hands and felt the tiny disturbance of air swirl for several seconds. She looked in awe at her own hands that held the swirl of air she could feel for much longer than she thought possible before it finally dissipated. "Excellent," Viktor whispered on a grin, feeling the tiny tornado she'd created from between her fingers.

"I did it!" Hermione was so excited she practically squeaked the words as she turned her head, not realizing how close Viktor's face was until it was too late and they were nose to nose. Now it was Hermione's turn to swallow roughly. She snapped her head forward again as she tugged at her lower lip with her teeth. "Sorry," she muttered.

"Not'ing to be sorry for. I vas excited v'hen I first did it too." Trying to keep the situation from turning sour in the moment of awkwardness, he found something to keep the attention on the lesson. "Here," he said as he released one of her hands and reached in the direction of a stray leaf on the stone path. A tiny gust of air formed beneath it and slowly brought the leaf into Viktor's waiting hand. Bringing his hand back around in front of Hermione with the leaf in his open palm. "Make it dance," he said as his voice returned to the soft whisper near her ear. Hermione took a slow breath and closed her eyes for a moment, Viktor doing the same as he took in the scent of her hair once again.

Over the next hour or so, Hermione continually tried to make the leaf dance in Viktor's hand. She managed to make it stand up and twirl a time or two, but her control always faded quickly. Viktor showed infinite patience with her once he saw that she was making progress. When he no longer needed to assist her in breathing, his hand that didn't hold the leaf came down to rest on his thigh. One time when he had to reach around to adjust the leaf in his palm, his hand did not return to his own leg, but to her waist where he'd gripped her to pull her back towards him. She either didn't notice or didn't mind, though he hoped it was the latter of the two, because she continued to stare at the leaf before her and the air she tried to control around it. All the while, Viktor gave her soft words of encouragement, his own mind trying to figure out what exactly the scent of her hair was, and he had to consciously stop himself from resting his chin on her shoulder.

The echoing bell of the clocktower signaling the end of the final class period interrupted Hermione's most successful twirl of the leaf, making her gasp as it startled her. "Blast," she said in her accent that Viktor found quite alluring in its own right. Hermione dropped her hands in her lap and took a deep breath unlike the one he'd trained her to do, Viktor taking the hint that she was probably spent for the day. Wanting to avoid the same situation as before, Viktor pulled his head back a bit and put the slightest distance between them. The last thing he wanted now was to scare her off. To his surprise, she allowed herself to fall backwards slightly, landing her back against his brickwall of a chest. Viktor's breath stilled in his lungs as he assessed the situation. "Did I do good?" she asked as she looked up to him with her eyes only, not tilting her head up to see him fully.

He counted himself lucky that she didn't. From her current angle, she probably couldn't see him swallow the lump in his throat. Finally remembering how to breathe, he inhaled deeply and looked to her face with the most confident smile he could manage at the moment. "Vonderful." He wasn't entirely referring to how she did in her lesson.

Hermione sat up and brought her leg back around to the front of the bench, turning her upper body so she could face him, her smile bringing those stars to her eyes Viktor remembered from the owl tower. "Thank you, Viktor. This is... I can't even find words to describe how fantastic this feels."

"You do not haff to describe it," Viktor replied as he brought a single finger gently to the corner of her lips. "You tell me wit' your smile." He was rewarded with her smile growing even more and her face flushing pink. "Same time tomorrow?" he asked as he held up the leaf, offering it to her.

"Absolutely!" Hermione took the leaf and gave it a quick kiss before standing from the bench with her cloak in the other hand and heading over to where her books sat. Gathering them up in her arms, she waved to Viktor and made her way from the greenhouse. He returned the wave and sighed once she was out of sight. Viktor never thought he'd be envious of a damn leaf.

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I am so happy to have so many people reading my story, reviewing, putting me on story alert, the whole deal! I never thought my story would be enjoyed by so many people. I'm really glad I could write something like this. Please don't forget to review. I'm trying to update at least once a week. Work is going to be very, very busy for the next few months, so weekends will be my only time to do this. Thanks for all the love!


	7. My S'veet

**Note:** All previous warnings and disclaimers still apply.

* * *

The next day, Wednesday, Viktor tried his damnedest to pay attention in his classes. In Muggle Studies, he took notes with his right hand while he twirled one of the wrenches Professor Burbage passed out in his left. She was giving the class an explanation of how the nuts and bolts held a muggle automobile together, as she claimed they would be taking one apart in the near future. Several of the other students asked why they would take something apart simply to put it back together again, but Viktor stayed silent, already knowing that sometimes you knew something better once you saw what was on the inside.

On a similar note, he intended to learn all he could about what Hermione was like on the inside. One thing he already knew was that she was excellent at making him lose sleep. Those eyes of melted chocolate kept creeping into his mind. Paired with that tiny, innocent smile of hers in his head, he was left tossing and turning in his bunk for several hours. And the scent of her... Every time he closed his eyes and took a breath, he was tormented by the memory of that not-quite-orange scent of her hair. By Merlin, he was going to find out what the hell that scent was. His notes ended up being a bit sketchy towards the end of class, when his mind was spinning through every fruit he'd ever tasted and smelled.

Transfiguration class focused on reptile bodies that day. One of the Beauxbaton girls found charming her nails into different colors more amusing than the class discussion. When Professor McGonagall noticed, she volunteered the girl to be the first to undergo the transfiguration into an iguana. She let out a sharp shriek when she was changed into the lizard, to which most of the class chuckled. However when the professor changed her back, the girl retained quite a bit of the green tint to her skin and quickly ran from the classroom to be horribly sick in the bathroom. "Motion sickness is a common side-effect of transfiguring into a cold-blooded creature," McGonagall commented to the rest of the class with a good-humored sparkle in her eye, earning her a few more chuckles.

Viktor was relieved to find only one autograph-seeker during the break. Colin Creevey, as the boy introduced himself, was very young-looking, very polite, and very, very excited. Viktor thought the boy was a fine example of a more simplistic, carefree youth, instantly earning the young boy a certain degree of Viktor's respect.

Fawkes was thoroughly enjoying being displayed for the class to study in Magical Creatures. Viktor took notice of how the bird was intelligent enough to understand spoken English and had a reasonably advanced thought process. He could swear the bird was smirking when the professor called him a "fine example of a prime coloration breeding result." As the lecture went on about what sorts of magical items were made from phoenix parts, Fawkes gave the professor a glare. Viktor caught only part of it, the primary focus of his attention on figuring out how long it would be until they were studying the first of the two creatures he was most interested in. The ring of the belltower brought him out of his thoughts and he quickly gathered up his books to head for the Great Hall.

Viktor was joined by the rest of the Durmstrangs at the lunch table, as usual now that they were all getting settled in. The conversation carried on as they all got seated, Viktor and the other three that had Muggle studies together discussing the upcoming project of the automobile. Milan was demonstrating with his hands how the threads of a screw held a bolt when the first plates floated onto the table. Viktor chuckled to Anton's face, who was watching with a confused arch of his brow, before he reached for one of the bowls of fruit. When he actually looked to see what he was grabbing, Viktor noticed he'd picked up what appeared to be a small orange, though more flat on the top and bottom, less round. Arching his own brow, he placed it on his plate before slicing it in half deftly with his knife. As soon as the outer skin of the fruit was pierced, the scent hit him. _Hermione._ It was the scent of her hair. He'd found it! Trying not to look as excited as he felt in his gut, he sliced the fruit again to make a quarter and took a deep bite. The tiny citrus pockets burst on his tongue as he smoothed the fruit around in his mouth, savoring the flavor. He could have sat there with that sweet-but-tart flavor on his tongue for the rest of the day and been perfectly content. When at last there was nothing left for him to taste, he reopened his eyes that had drifted shut in his moment of silent bliss. He snapped his gaze immediately to Yuri, who was wondering what Viktor found so fascinating about the fruit and was sort of staring. "Yuri, what is dis fruit?" Viktor asked as he plucked another from the bowl and tossed it to his Herbology-specialized friend across the table.

Yuri caught the small citrus fruit with his free hand easily, his other holding his goblet of grape juice. He turned it over in his hand, examining the outside before giving it a sniff. "I remember d'is from last year. Ve studied citrus fruits early in da year. It is called a tan-jar-een, usually grown by muggles in Nort' America." He took another sniff of the outer rind before tossing it back to Viktor. "Smells like it is barely off da tree. Dey probably appart dem here so dey are fresh."

Viktor caught the fruit and looked it over again. A muggle fruit from across the ocean... So why did her hair smell like it? He turned the question over in his mind as he sliced it and set it on his plate, gathering up a few other foods so he didn't eat just that for lunch, though it crossed his mind for a moment. Yuri talked about how he was planning on succeeding his father in the family business of baneberry and alihotsy growing. "If I do not get my NEWT from professor Sprout, I vill haff to take anot'er year back at Durmstrang just to valk in da fields again," he said with a shake of his head. Viktor saw from the look on his friend's face that he wanted nothing more in the world than to get his NEWT and make his father proud.

While Viktor knew it was important to his friend, he still had to almost force himself to sit still and listen to the conversation. He didn't want to rush to the greenhouse again and make Hermione feel bad for keeping him waiting. Once he felt enough time had passed and noticed a few of the others starting to get up, he passed his plate down with the others and grabbed his books to head out of the hall. As he was walking out, he happened to fall in step behind the pair that he'd seen Hermione walking with the day before, the ones she mentioned were her best friends. They were chatting between themselves as they walked out of the hall and didn't seem to notice Viktor walking just a few paces behind them. "Where'd Hermione run off to, you wonder?" the red-haired one said. The other one he remembered was The-Boy-Who-Lived, Harry Potter. The one who spoke must have been Ron. He'd burned the names into his memory the instant she said them, labeling them as potential competition for her attention. When she'd said they were only friends, his opinion softened, though that didn't totally eliminate them from the list.

"Dunno," Harry replied with a shake of his head, tossing his dark, shaggy hair a bit. Viktor thought the boy was in desperate need of a haircut. "She said she had something to do and she didn't want to be late again."

"Late for wha'? She had such a sneer on her face when she was talking about getting Divination again, I'm sure she didn't stay in the class. Even if she did, she wouldn't've run off with that smile on her face about going to it." As Ron spoke with a frustration in his voice, Viktor couldn't help but give a tiny smile to himself. She was smiling as she ran off to see _him._

"Knowing Hermione, she's probably picked up another class. She'd probably go daft if she didn't have a book in front of her nose nearly every moment of the day." The two of them chuckled together as they turned off towards one of the courtyards. Viktor turned the opposite direction, starting towards the greenhouses. He smirked to himself. He'd managed to grab the attention of a real bookworm, it seemed. And from what her friends had said, it was a true accomplishment to have that attention when she could just as well be studying something else. He counted himself lucky in that fact. As he caught sight of Hermione stepping into the greenhouse door as he came around the corner, he thought it was very lucky indeed.

He stepped into the greenhouse and caught sight of her setting her books down on the same chair, trying to get what looked like a dozen scrolls from rolling off the top. "I am glad I-" he began from where he stood in the doorway.

"Merlin!" she yelped as she spun around, dropping the scroll that was in her hand and the other hand coming up to clutch at her chest. She stared at him wide-eyed for a moment before breathing again and chuckling at herself. Obviously she hadn't noticed him in her hurry to get into the greenhouse. Before she could open her mouth to speak, he was there, his books discarded to the stone path at their feet and his hands on her shoulders. His dark eyes smoldered down her face as they held a look somewhere between sorrowful and nervous.

"I am sorry, Hermy-own-ninny. I did not mean to stardle you," he said before swallowing the lump in his throat. He didn't even realize he'd made the move. One moment he'd been standing in the doorway. The next, he was standing in front of her, hands holding onto her, trying to comfort her from the wrong he'd committed.

Hermione's breath seemed to stop for several moments as she slowly looked up to Viktor's face a few inches above his own. "Um.. that's alright," he practically stammered in her sudden nervousness. She brought her hands together before her, twisting her fingers together. She looked like she was debating what to say before a smile came to her face, lighting up her eyes the way Viktor loved to see them. "It was my fault for running late anyways. See?" she said as she took a step back from him, breaking the link between his hands and her shoulders as she motioned to her legs. Viktor noticed she now wore a pair of muggle jeans instead of her uniform skirt, though she hadn't changed the rest of her clothes and still had on the white shirt and vest with the tie in her house colors.

He was disappointed at not touching her anymore, but the feeling was quickly dismissed when he saw the jeans on her. He immediately took a liking to the muggle garment, taking note of how it hugged her subtle curves from her waist down to her mid-thigh before becoming slightly loose from that point down. "Clean thoughts, Krum. Clean thoughts," he said silently in his own head. He nodded his approval before speaking out loud. "You changed so you vould not haff to keep your cloak on your legs."

"Exactly," she replied on a nod before turning to pick up the scroll she'd dropped. As she squatted down, she spotted Viktor's books on the stone. "Oh, Viktor! Your books!" she said with a bit of fright in her voice. He'd totally forgotten his books in his hurry to get to her. Before he could even turn around, she was kneeling down to pick up his books, small fingers running gingerly over the heavily scuffed cover of his copy of _My Life as a Muggle_. "You should really take better care of them," she scolded him as she looked over the others for damage.

"Sorry," he said on a chuckle. "I guess dey slipped when I was vorried about you." She handed him the other books, which were undamaged, and he placed them neatly on the chair next to hers. "I overhead your two friends saying you like books very much," he carefully pried.

"Very, very much," she corrected as she pulled her wand from her pocket. "Libro reparo," she said with authority as she tapped her wand to the damaged cover of the book in her arms. The scuffs mended themselves and the even the dog-eared corners reversed their wear, leaving the book looking like new when she handed it to him. She beamed proudly before stuffing her wand back into her pocket. "Well then," she began as he admired her work. "Shall we get started then?"

Viktor smiled to her enthusiasm. She had such a strong affection for books, but she wanted the knowledge he could provide. He felt like the luckiest man in the world. "As you wish," he said through his smile. He placed the book with the others before he gave a half-bow and swept his arm toward the bench they'd used the day before. He caught the slightest giggle from her as they walked over, instantly loving the sound of it. He sat down first, straddling the bench as before, and allowed her to sit in front of him. He couldn't help his eyes from being instantly drawn to where the jeans hugged her rear as she sat down before him and scooted back a bit. As he gently laid his hands on her waist and pulled her to the same distance as the first lesson, he swallowed roughly and once again thought to himself, "Clean thoughts clean thoughts clean thoughts." Merlin help him if his mind went to unclean thoughts and she were to lean back at the wrong time.

"Yesterday you learned how to control da breath you make, how to keep it moving after da first push out of your lungs," he said as his hands found hers and he idly intertwined their fingers. He leaned forward the short distance to bring his face next to hers, hovering over her shoulder as he spoke quietly, not wanting to be overly loud so close to her ear. "Now I vill show you how to make da air move wit'out it, how to make..." He thought a moment to find the right words in English. "Da air dat is still, not moving. You vill make it move wit' your magic, not your breath."

"But... isn't that what I did yesterday?" she asked as she dropped her hands to land on top of her thighs, his fingers still tangled with hers.

"Not completely," he answered as his fingers gently toyed with hers of their own accord. "When you v'ere breathing out, you started it moving wit' breath, den kept it going wit' magic. Now you vill do it all by magic alone." Hermione nodded a bit before she closed her eyes and brought her hands up before her, Viktor's fingers still intertwined. "Breath as before," he whispered. She nodded again and he started them through the motions of lifting their arms to breath deep. As before, his deep breaths took in her scent. He couldn't stop the smile that spread on his lips at knowing he had found what the elusive scent was. After a few deep breaths, Hermione brought her hands in front of herself and tilted her head down slightly while she looked to the empty space between her hands, making sure her breath wasn't what she felt when she tried. She stared hard at that empty space, seeming to focus with all of her will to make the hanging air spin. Over the course of roughly twenty minutes, she started to break out in a sweat on her brow from trying so hard. Viktor saw the strain in her face and the sheen on her forehead. Shaking his head slightly, he used his hands to bring hers down to her lap again. "Mой сладък, you must not try so hard," he whispered softly, his warm breath falling on her ear.

On a groan, Hermione quickly removed her hands from his and stood from the bench, moving to pace up and down the stone path. Viktor made no move to stop her. He guessed that she was just frustrated since yesterday's lesson had gone so well. Another stumbling point, he noted. "You did this before, Hermione. You can do it again," she mumbled to herself as she paced briskly up and down the stone path within the greenhouse.

Viktor watched her pace about five times before he stood and caught her arm in a soft grip. When she stopped abruptly, he took hold of her shoulders and gently turned her to face him, looking straight into those pools of melted chocolate he admired so. "You _can_ do dis," he said in a voice akin to warm honey. "You are simply trying too hard. You must let it come. Breathe and feel it. V'hen you try so hard, it is like trying to hold v'ater in your hand. Da more you squeeze, da more it slips t'roo your fingers." Letting out a defeated sigh, Hermione leaned forward against him. Her forehead smacked into his hard chest as her fists came up to lightly thump against him on either side of her head. She muttered into his uniform while his breath stilled in his lungs and he swallowed roughly, his hands still on her shoulders.

"Why was it so easy then and so hard now? How do you do these spells so easily and I feel like my brain is going to pop from trying?" She sighed again against his chest while he tried to figure out exactly what she was doing. Bulgarian girls certainly didn't act like this. He wasn't quite sure what she was intending by the casual touching and leaning against him she was so frequent in doing. Trying to take a ragged breath as smoothly as he could in that moment, he brought one hand around to Hermione's lower back, the other to the back of her head as he gently stroked her hair. As she sighed again, he tried to find the words to comfort her.

"You must not let a small stumble stop you. After all, it is only your second day, мой сладък." he offered that same soft voice. "I haff been doing dese spells since I vas a child. It vill take time." He continued to gently stroke her soft, loosely-curled hair as he tried to sooth her frustrations.

"But I've always been able to pick up on things so quickly. I knew five spells I could do successfully before I even came to Hogwarts. All the professors know I can excel at-" Her self-pity rambling was cut off when Viktor moved his hand from the back of her head around to under her chin, his tender touch lifting her face so he could see her eyes.

"You can mast'ar anyt'ing, so long you give it time, мой сладък." His fingers trailed lightly over her jawline, moving back to rest delicately where her jaw met her neck. "Do not let yourself be defeated so easily."

"What did you say?" she asked barely above a whisper.

He arched a dark brow, wondering if he had said the incorrect words in English. "Do not let yourself be defeated so easily," he repeated. "Eh, conq'oor'd," he tried substituting.

"No," she said with the slightest shake of her head. "I think you're saying it in Bulgarian. 'Moey spa-dook.' Or something like that." Viktor could feel the scarlet creeping up his neck with the knowledge that she'd caught what he was calling her. "What does it mean?" she asked in a quiet, innocent voice.

"Em..." he looked away from her face, down to some random speck of dirt off to the side by a plant. His hand that was at her jaw moved back down to her shoulder, resting lightly there. He saw from his peripheral vision that she canted her head to the side a bit, trying to see his face more clearly as she waited for his answer. "It is a... how you call it... end'arme't?" he replied with a question of sorts, still not looking back to her face.

"Endearment?" she corrected. His keen eyes caught the pink starting to blossom on her cheeks.

"Yes," he confessed quietly. "It means 'my s'veet' in your language." He slowly pulled his hands back from her, though his hands would have been perfectly happy to remain just where they were. Swallowing roughly, he gave her only the briefest glance before his eyes went back to the ground. "I am sorry to haff offended you, Hermy-own-ninny." He could just kick himself for fumbling this situation so badly, taking a small step back to give her a bit of space.

But with her next move, his mind was proven wrong. She matched his step and come forward to him again, slipping her arms around his waist and laying her head on his chest, her ear turned into his frantically beating heart. "You didn't offend me, Viktor," she said on a whisper, as though the very sound of her voice could break him to pieces if she spoke to loudly. "I'm just frustrated about all this. And... to tell the truth, I'm not really used to boys calling me things like that. Usually it's 'bookworm' or 'professor's pet' that they call me. Even Ron and Harry call me their 'little nerdling' sometimes." Viktor didn't know what to say. Somehow his hands had moved back to rest on her lower back and hair again, his fingers gently tangling there as he soothed her. She took a deep breath without moving her head and continued as her voice crept up from a whisper to a more normal level. "I just.. I guess you would be the first to not see me as just another study-driven Hogwarts pupil."

Viktor was still drawing a blank for what to say to her little speech. Instead, he tried another angle. "May I ask a q'vestion?" he asked tentatively. She tilted her head up to look to his eyes the color of rich earthen soil, nodding once. "V'hy does your hair smell like tan-jar-eens?" Hermione cocked a brow as she let the question sink in, then let out a genuine, full-smile laugh. Viktor thought it was like enchanted music to his ears.

After she had laughed for a solid twenty seconds, she wiped one of her eyes were a tear of laughter threatened to fall and looked up to his face again. "It's my shampoo and conditioner. My cousin suggested it when I wrote to her last year, telling her that my hair seemed to be developing a life of its own and going all frizzy. It's a muggle brand and you'd have to go to a muggle store to find it." she said with a shrug.

"Your cousin likes muggle t'ings, da?" he asked with a grin, glad to have distracted her from where the conversation was going.

"Actually," she began. Now it was her turn to look to the stones at their feet. "My cousin _is_ a muggle. All of my family is. That's why I have another name some students here call me. Mudblood." Viktor's face took an expression like it was made of hardened stone. "I'm muggle-born," she added with what sounded to Viktor like a hushed-shame in her voice.

"V'hy vould dey call you dat just because your parents are not vizards?" he asked with the deepest concern for her embracing every word. "It is a cruel name," he added as his hand once again caught under her chin and turned her face to his. "And you do not deserff it. You are a vondervul vitch. So long as you are a good person and make your parents proud, it madders not vat blood you are." Tears welled in Hermione's eyes and would have fallen if she hadn't crushed her face into his chest. Her arms around his waist tightened dramatically as she held herself flush up against him. He held her head to him tenderly while his mind raced with questions of why anyone would want to insult such a beautiful young woman like that.

"Thank you," he heard her whisper from the wet spot she'd cried into the front of his uniform.

"D'ere is not'ing to t'ank for. You s'ood not be t'anking. You s'ood be receiving apologies from d'ose dat call you dat name." He tilted his head down just a bit, enough to lay his stubble-specked cheek against her hair.

She forced a short laugh and shook her head, her face still buried in the front of his uniform. "Right. Like anyone would ever be able to get an apology out of Malfoy," she muttered, her voice dripping with sarcasm. The blonde buffoon, Viktor instantly realized. "His friends, maybe. But not him. Anytime he even comes in the same hallway as me, he makes it a point to call me Mudblood."

"Please do not call yourself dat, мой сладък," he said quietly, his breath rolling over her hair in a warm, gentle wave. In the back of his mind, he made a silent promise. He would get his Hermione that apology. Hermione nodded slightly, though didn't remove her head from where she laid it on his chest, listening to his heart again. They stood in each other's embrace for a while longer. Time held no meaning for Viktor so long has he held her.

Only the sound of the clocktower signaling the end of the classes roused them from their individual thoughts. Viktor looked up in the general direction which the sound had come from, wishing they could stay like that for the rest of the day. He knew better though, as the evening class would eventually come to disturb them. Loosening his grip on Hermione, he pulled back slightly to look to her face. His hand on her back moved to her waist and the one on her hair slid down to her shoulder. Her crying had subsided and only the faintest red showed in her eyes from the strain. "I suppose we have to go now," she said quietly, though did not yet make a move to leave.

Viktor nodded and moistened his lips briefly before speaking. "Da. You vill need to change back into your uniform before dinner." There was a pause when they simply looked to each other, neither in any hurry to let go. "I vill not be able to teach you tomorrow, wit' da Goblet of Fire ceremon'ny. And Karkaroff vill likely vant me for a meeting da next day. May I see you dis v'eekend?" he asked before adding. "Not for teaching, just to see you?"

Hermione bit at her lower lip gently before nodding her consent. "I would like that," she agreed. "Where should I meet you then?"

Viktor thought about it, glancing around the room. "Dey likely use dis greenhouse on da weekends, since plants still need to be vatered and tended. I do not know da grounds very vell. Do you know a place? I eh..." he paused as he took his hand from her shoulder to scratch at the back of his neck nervously. "I v'ould like to keep it private, if ve could. I do not vant da girls spoiling our time toget'er."

"Girls?" she asked with a sharply arched brow and a look on her face hinting of suspicion.

"Da, I... alv'ays seem to get a group of girls following me v'hen I am a'vay from home. It is from being famous Quit'idge Seeker, I t'ink. Dey ask for aut'ogra'ff, but den do not leave. I do not know v'hy. Dey just..." He shrugged in confusion, "follow me."

Hermione chuckled and shook her head, a smirk on her face. "Why Viktor Krum. As the muggles would say, you have groupies." She chuckled again before pursing her lips to one side as she thought hard for a moment. "I know," she said finally. "Hagrid lives on the far end of the grounds, right up against the Forbidden Forest. He's the GameKeeper and a good friend mine. You've probably seen him around the school. The big half-giant with a thick black beard and long hair?" Viktor nodded and she continued. "With the Beauxbaton horses here, they'll take up most of his time and he won't be at his cottage. We can meet in the pumpkin patch he has there. After lunch would probably be best."

"Vonderful," he said with a smile and a nod. "I cannot v'ait, Hermy-own-ninny." He took a step back, taking her right hand from his waist and moving it to be held in his right. He bowed over her hand slightly and brought it to his lips to place a tender kiss to her knuckles. His earthen brown eyes stayed trained on hers of melted chocolate, both of which softened when his lips met her warm skin.

Hermione bit softly at her lower lip, as she was gaining habit of doing around Viktor. After he released her hand, she stepped forward and leaned up to place a soft, quick kiss to his cheek. Before he could even react, she had turned around, gathered her books from the chair, and was leaving the greenhouse with almost a skip in her step. Viktor lifted his hand to gently touch his cheek where she'd left the kiss. He swore his fingertips grew warm with just the memory of her touch. How he was going to get through the next two days without her, he didn't know. How he was going to get through Saturday with only clean thoughts... He knew was going to be impossible.

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	8. Kindred Spirits

**Disclaimer: **I don't own HP. I'm not getting rich from this. Please don't sue me for my $25 and stuffy collection.

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It was Thursday. The day the Goblet of Fire would choose those to compete in the Tri-Wizard tournament. Ironically enough, Viktor was starting to adjust to his new sleep schedule and woke only about a minute before his Howler jumped up from the bedside table. He thought he would be more excited, more anxious, more... something. As he'd done the past few days, his morning workout took place in his bunk. What had once been a steady downpour outside the ship had tapered off to an occasional drizzle, but Viktor knew the ground would be like trying to walk through a marsh. Back in Pernik, just outside of Sophia, it wasn't nearly this wet, especially for such long durations. He was more accustomed to the grand Vitosha Mountains with their angular surfaces, uneven terrain, and the occasional hidden hot spring. But for the next nine months, he'd have to make his schedule accommodating of the Scottish green and the rain that fueled it.

He went through his workout routine is a half-daze, not so much trying to keep his mind blank as simply not thinking about anything. That all changed when he was done with his shower and was getting dressed. As he grabbed for his first boot, he noticed something stuck to the bottom. Turning it over, he saw the small leaf that had stuck to his heel from his trip to the greenhouse the day before. _Hermione._ He chuckled to himself as he pulled the leaf from his boot and held it by the stem, rotating it before his face. It was from a different plant as the one he'd handed her to practice with that first day, but it still reminded him of their time together, nonetheless. He shook his head as he tossed it into the refuse bin near his desk. He didn't have to be jealous of that leaf anymore. He'd gotten his first kiss from her, be it a peck on the cheek as it was. But he still savored the feel of her lips on his face for that fleeting moment. He stopped in the middle of tying his boot and stared at the floor for a moment, realizing why he had been in a daze earlier. With no greenhouse lesson today, he wasn't excited about seeing her, and thus wasn't excited about much at all. He smiled to this fact, realizing she had such an effect on him. He finished getting dressed and ran a hand over his head to check if he needed a trim. Making a mental note to clean up the uneven growth the next day, he grabbed his books and headed for the longboats.

Breakfast was a buzz of conversation about what each of the other young men would do if they were chosen and won the tournament. Viktor suspected they each believed him to be the one that would be chosen, but fantasized on the subject regardless. Yuri proclaimed he would buy many acres of land here in Scotland, where the plants flourished so well. Anton said he would travel to America and see his distant relatives there. Even Milan couldn't help but pipe in, though was a bit embarrassed when the other boys arched quizzical brows to his simple dream of marrying a girl he had his eye on back home. Viktor didn't disagree with his idea at all, though kept his thoughts to himself as not to draw the attention to himself as well.

The first two classes breezed by for Viktor, taking thorough notes during the lecture given in each. It was the break before Magical Creatures that seemed to drag on forever. When he stepped into the hallway, he found that two young girls with yellow and black crests on their uniforms stood waiting, grins splitting their faces. The one with long, sandy blonde hair offered her parchment first, to which Viktor smiled and signed accordingly. Her friend with short, curly black locks handed him a clipping from the Daily Prophet. It was the picture of the Bulgarian Quidditch team before the final match of the World Cup. Viktor stood in the center of the group, Coach Ivan Todorov's arm around his shoulders and a look of pride on the middle-aged man's face. When the moving picture saw that it was Viktor now looking at it, all of his Quidditch brothers waved to the real Viktor. He chuckled as the picture of himself flexed his biceps mockingly while he signed the picture with a flourish. He handed the picture back to the young lady and turned to say something to Yuri as they headed down the hallway toward the courtyard several Durmstrangs gathered during the break. On about the third word, he turned his head to the feeling of being watched and found the two girls following several paces behind, their eyes trained on him. He shook his head and hoped that they were simply going somewhere in the same general direction as he and Yuri, but his hopes diminished when he took a seat on an empty bench near his other friends. He looked over his shoulder again and saw they were still there, whispering to each other behind the books they each held and raised near their faces, eyes still trained on him. Viktor let out a muffled groan and caught himself before he said something foul in Bulgarian. Instead he simply muttered, "So it begins. My name is not even out of da Goblet yet."

As Viktor tried to focus on what the other Durmstrangs were discussing, Anton caught what had slipped, shifting his eyes to the pair but keeping his head still to not give away that he'd looked. He chuckled at realizing what Viktor was frustrated about, shaking his head slightly. Just as he was about to say something to Viktor, he noticed Yan approaching the group and shifted his gaze there, a smirk on his face. "Vhat is so amusing?" Yan asked as he stepped up to them.

"Do not look to give avay dat you see," Anton volunteered in a lowered voice, "but it vould seem Viktor is gaddering atten'chun already. Da two by da low vall, wit' d'eir books hiding der talking."

Yan was inconspicuous about looking in the direction Anton had indicated, immediately spotting the two girls who stood still amid the traffic of students going to and fro, about six meters away from their group. "I v'ill handle it," he said and walked off toward the girls before any could comment or protest. Viktor even arched a brow to Yan's behavior. Normally he just put up with the girls that followed him. He simply hadn't expected them to start gathering this quickly. Yan stepped up to the girls at a brisk pace, many of the Durmstrangs now ceasing their own conversations to observe. After Yan and the girls exchanged a few words too far away for the rest of them to hear, the two girls walked off with sullen faces. Yan walked back to the others with a smirk of accomplishment on his face.

They all looked between Yan and the two girls walking off a few times before Viktor finally broke the silence. "How did you do d'at?" he asked with his head tilted slightly to the side.

"I simply told d'em you already had some'vone you v'ere interested in," Yan said with a sly smile. Viktor's eyes flashed for a split second while he looked to Yan. Did he know? He shared nearly every other detail about his life with his best friend at one point or another, but his time with Hermione was something he intended to keep secret as long as possible. He didn't want her to feel the pressure of people pressing her for information about him, asking if they were officially dating, and generally invading her privacy. He'd grown used to it over the years, but he didn't want to subject her to that.

For the time being, he decided to play ignorant. "V'hy v'ould you tell d'em dat?" he asked as he shifted on the bench a bit uncomfortably.

"Because if I told dem you were be'tro'd to some girl back home, dey v'ould say somet'ing about her not being here to be your watcher," Yan replied with a wink. To this, all of the Durmstrangs burst out in laughter and chuckles. Even Viktor joined in the rounds, after it took a moment to sink in that Yan probably didn't know the truth... he hoped. Once they all calmed back down, Yan let Viktor and the rest of them know that Karkaroff would be at the Goblet ceremony that evening. "He has also postponed my celebra'chun plans. I v'as hoping to serve Start'istle cocktails tonight, but he insisted I v'ait until you all do not haff class to v'ake up for da next day," he said on a chuckle.

"Da, since you steep da t'istle until it is moosh," Yuri said with a roll of his eyes. Viktor knew it was just Yuri's plant-loving side showing itself.

"You did not complain last year at da Hallov'een party!" Yan shot back with a grin.

"Da, because, like da rest of us, I v'as too drunk off just v'one to even know v'hat I vas drinking or dat I probably should haff stopped after dat v'one." Yuri groaned at the memory. He and Yan shot back and forth at each other for the rest of the break period, with the occasional interjection from another Durmstrang to liven things up. Viktor however, kept glancing to a corner near the courtyard with his eyes alone. He kept seeing a cluster of black curly hair peek around from the corner before disappearing back behind the stone wall.

In Magical Creatures however, Viktor and the rest of the class got a pleasant surprise. "It would seem that Fawkes did not enjoy my lecture on what sorts of things could be made with various parts of his anatomy, and he has refused to rejoin the class," Professor Plank explained. To this, she received several defeated sighs. It appeared that several of the students were genuinely enjoying the subject. "But fret not, my lovelies," she beamed as she went back behind her desk and reached for a scroll. She held it vertically in front of herself before tapping it with her wand. "Multi-Duplico," she said and gently shook the scroll. From the lower end of the scroll, about twenty more just like it started to fall out to the floor at her feet. "Alright then!" she said through a grin and motioned to the pile. "Everyone come forward, orderly," she added with an arched brow, "and grab a scroll. Then follow me to the fields. We're going to be moving on to our next creature a few days early." With that, she tucked her wand away in the folds of her robes and skirted around the pile of rolled parchment to head out the door.

Viktor couldn't hide the grin that split his features. This was to be the first of the two creatures he specifically took this class to study. The other students seemed to have a pattern in grabbing their scrolls, those closest to the front grabbing one and leaving first, followed consecutively by those seated behind them and so on. Viktor felt like a little boy about to receive a birthday present. He had to consciously keep himself still in his seat and not run to the front to grab a scroll and sprint from the classroom to see their study-subject, as he was seated about halfway back and had to wait his turn. When he was finally able to claim his scroll, he glanced to the tag dangling from one end. _Rules and precautions_ one side said. He was about to flip the tag to read the other side, but Professor Plank was calling for them all to follow her through the corridors. "Keep up, young ones!" she said as she motioned for the group. They were all sixth and seventh years, but obviously considerably younger than herself, as the few gray curls from beneath her hat revealed. "The staircases like to change more than usual this time of day and I won't have any of you stuck on a door-less ledge for an hour." She chuckled as her eyes reflected the smile, even as she ushered the group down several sets of stairs and finally out into the open fields around the castle.

They walked in a loose group, the students chattering among themselves as they made the trek west. After quite a while, Viktor spotted a lone figure atop one of the gently rolling hills, thought it was bigger than he thought it should have been. As they drew nearer, he saw why. "Hagrid!" Professor Plank called out, waving her hand to the half-giant as she walked.

"G'mornin', professor! I'tis still mornin', ain't it?" he asked as he raised a hand to his brow and checked the placement of the sun in the sky.

"Close enough," Plank chuckled as she finally came up to stand next to Hagrid and turned to face the class. "Students, this is a very good friend of mine: Mr. Rubeus Hagrid, the GameKeeper here at Hogwarts," she announced with a cordial motion to the overly tall, long hair and bearded man beside her.

"Jus' Hagrid, if ya don' mind," he said humbly to the students. Viktor liked the man immediately. Not only did he obviously share a love of caring for creatures, as most all GameKeepers did, but he could see something in Hagrid's eyes; a deeper kindness. He could see why Hermione spoke of him not just as faculty member she happened to know, but as a friend. "Well, no point in stallin' here. C'mon then," Hagrid said as he motioned for the professor and students to follow him.

They crossed over one final hill and came up to something akin to a long stable-house with numerous doors along the one side that faced them. Viktor arched a brow, not remembering this building being on the map of Hogwarts. Hagrid motioned for the group to stay back about five or six meters as he approached a door as tall as he was. Pulling open one door, then the one next to it, Hagrid grinned like a proud father as the group took a collective gasp. Slowly stepping from the large stable that housed each of them, first one eagle-like head, then another peered out into the near-noon sun. Those heads were slowly followed by the muscular shoulders and torso of a lion-like body, quickly accompanied by massive eagle wings that almost looked too big to be attached. "Say 'ello to Aetos and his brother Agatone," Hagrid announced as he motioned to the regal golden griffin first, then the one seeming to be so pure silver that he may have been made of moonlight. "I jus' fed `em less than an hour ago, professor. So they won' be givin' ya any trouble," he said as he regarded Professor Plank.

"Thank you, Hagrid," she replied with a warm smile. Giving a nod, he waved the students and headed back towards his cottage some thirty meters away. Plank turned to the class and made the universal sign with her hands for "sit down." The class obliged and many took out their quills and parchment, preparing to take notes. The three Beauxbaton ladies of the class took the time to lay their shawls out on the grass before sitting down, Viktor noticed, ever the delicate flowers. For a moment, he wondered if Hermione would have taken the time to do that, or if she would have simply sat on the slightly damp grass with quill in hand and not a second thought as she prepared to take notes and absorb knowledge. "As you've probably seen from your scrolls," Plank started, drawing Viktor's attention back to the present while he plopped down on a tuft, "there are many rules and precautions to take when approaching a griffin. These two have been raised by soft-handed wizards since their hatching, and are exceedingly more gentle and tame than their wild cousins. Nonetheless," she added with a raised hand, "you must exercise the greatest caution around them at all times." She turned and headed for the golden griffin, the one Hagrid called Aetos.

She continued speaking to the class, though she faced Aetos. As Viktor looked more carefully, he could see the subtle shifts of color on the creatures feathers and fur, a blending of tiny brown flecks against the general golden tone. He thought it gave the beast a subtle texture, a realism that made him look more alive than like a golden statue. "As with other creatures in the same genus, it is best to approach first with a bow," she said before stopping in front of Aetos. Plank bowed deeply, adding a bit of her old-fashioned charm to the act. Aetos stepped forward to come within a single meter of Professor Plank. He regarded her with a cant of his head to one side then the other, his amber eyes reflecting a deeper intelligence. After several seconds, he returned the bow, dipping his head nearly to the ground before bringing himself up to his full height. At that moment, the class got their first truly good look at him. Aetos' head was a perfect duplicate of an eagle's, his feathers smoothing down to cover his neck and most of his chest, tapering off to what looked like incredibly thick fur that ran down each of his four legs and torso, down to his tail. His tail twitched every so often, much like that of a housecat, and was nearly as long as he was, ending in a tuft of gold and brown fur at the tip. While Aetos' head was nearly three meters in the air, his wings unfurled and made nearly everyone gasp at their own enormity. Viktor estimated the creature to have a wingspan exceeding seven and a half meters.

When Aetos tucked his wings back in, Professor Plank approached him and held out a hand, to which Aetos replied by placing one of his front paws gingerly on her outstretched hand, covering it entirely. She held his paw as she might hold a child's hand, turning to face the class once again, many of whom stared with mouths agape. "It takes a very skilled hand to handle them in this way, so do not get ahead of yourselves. Especially when things like this are part of the equation." She held the paw from underneath with one hand, gently tilting it backward as though the griffin were waving, and pressed on one of his center toes slightly. Almost instantly, the talon unsheathed from the confines of Aetos' fur, a full fifteen centimeters long, wickedly curved and sharpened to a lethal point. Viktor heard the young mad to his left swallow roughly. When he glanced over, the boy looked quite pale but was scribbling notes onto his parchment furiously. Turning his attention back to the griffin, he saw the professor release his paw and reach up to gently pat him on the neck and chest. "As many of you may know from simple stories growing up, griffins are often used to protect valuables, both treasures like gold and jewels, and places that are sacred or private. They are legal for private ownership, but it is still a bit rare for such, as many would-be owners do not have the touch required to handle them properly." Viktor took notes faster than he thought possible. Not only did he write down everything Professor Plank said word-for-word, but he also threw in observances such as how the griffin leaned into her touch only slightly, how his feathers shifted delicately around her hand, even how the noon sun reflected off his coloration pattern. The professor went on to explain the life-stages griffins went through, mentioning that they couldn't have any female griffins at that time because it was mating season and it would attract every male griffin for several hundred miles. She explained where they come from naturally, what coloration patterns they sometimes had, and several other things.

Plank was just starting to get into the domestication of griffins hundreds of years ago when the belltower announced the end of the class period. "Oh man! I'm starving," Viktor heard one of the boys say as they started to gather their things, the young man in a loosened green and silver tie taking off toward the castle at a jog. It seemed many shared his mentality, as the group quickly dispersed across the field. Viktor and Professor Plank were the only ones who stayed. Plank had her back turned to where the students once sat, gently running her hands across Aetos' feathered head. The four-legged creature seemed to enjoy the attention, leaning into her hand so much he caused her to stumble backward a few steps. To this she simply chuckled and shook her head, resuming petting the creature with great affection.

Viktor turned to regard the other griffin, whom he now realized was staring quite intently at him. Agatone had eyes of such pure silver that they appeared almost white, tiny flecks of the lightest blue dotting the irises intermittently. The creature rose from where he had settled laid down during the lecture, approaching Viktor directly. To this, Professor Plank quickly noticed and spun around to see whom the griffin was approaching. "Stand quite still, Mr. Krum," she swiftly whispered just loud enough for him to hear. Viktor obeyed and stood his ground, shoulders square with dark eyes meeting silver ones. Agatone came to a stop less than a meter before Viktor, canting his head to the side so he could get a better look at him through one unblinking eye. Viktor could see from the corner of his eye that the professor was slowly reaching for her wand, ready to cast the creature away should he make any motion of an attack. What came next surprised both of the humans. Agatone took the initiative and bowed to Viktor. Sweeping his head low, he barely missed Viktor with his beak, spreading his wings in a wide upward swoop. It was an absolutely grand display and took Plank's breath away. Viktor, too, was taken aback, nearly forgetting to return the gesture. He quickly regained his wits and clicked his heels together, bowing low and formally from the waist to the regal creature before him. "Oh, Mr. Krum..." he heard the professor whisper in awe as both of the males raised from their bows together. "In all of my seventy-three years..." she said in a more audible voice. "I've never seen such a kindred spirit connection." She patted Aetos once more on the side of his neck and stepped over to Viktor, gently laying a hand on his shoulder as she stood slightly behind him. Viktor's gaze remained trained on Agatone, each of the males seeming to peer into the other's soul. "You have no idea how... ancient, how... incredible... There just are not words for this. They... well they just don't do that unless the connection is there." Viktor didn't need to hear the words; he felt it. It wasn't like he was sharing the mind of Agatone so much as simply having a complete understanding of him. He could tell just by the subtle movements and almost non-existent sounds the creature made that he was still content from being fed earlier, that he kept his upper eyelids just barely down at the tops of his eyes to dampen the glare of the noon sun, and that the way he was laying earlier was starting to make his left-rear leg a bit uncomfortable after laying on it for the whole class period. He also knew what it meant when Agatone rolled his shoulders slightly, causing a ripple to roll down the length of his wings tucked at his sides.

"He v'ants to fly," he said as he turned to face Professor Plank. "He does not like staying in da stable for so long." To this, Plank gasped and covered her mouth with her hand, staring wide-eyed at Viktor, then Agatone, then back again.

"You feel it, don't you?" she asked tentatively. Viktor nodded. "It's a... it feels like it's your family, like a brotherhood, doesn't it?" He nodded again. "This connection has been called many things in the precious few times it has occurred, Mr. Krum. But none of them do it justice. My grandfather told me about it, or I never would have understood what you two feel just now." She looked back to Agatone and Viktor could tell from the look in her eye that her mind was busy. "You're at least seventeen, correct?" Again, he nodded. "Then you have leave to fly on the grounds on weekends. No doubt he will let you ride him and that you'll need little instruction. Please," she said as she turned to face his squarely, placing a hand on each of his shoulders. "Please tell me you have time to come and see him. This is too precious to be ignored."

Suddenly an idea popped into Viktor's head and a genuine smile came to his face. "I believe I v'ill come see him da day after tomorrow. I v'ould be happy to spend da whole afternoon wit' him."

"Excellent!" Plank said through a near-tearful grin. "Oh I must get going. You.. you should spend a few more minutes with him, if you could. I'll let Hagrid know you have special permission to come see him whenever you can." She fluttered her hand at her chest a moment before turning and heading towards Hagrid's cottage to inform him of the situation. Viktor turned his attention back to Agatone, lifting his hand to the massive creature's head, who stood as tall as his brother. He dipped his head down so Viktor could pet him, his strong fingers threading through the feathers the color of moonlight. They looked to each other with a clarity Viktor was sure was as new to Agatone as himself. He'd always been close to his three brothers and father, being able to predict their movements and thoughts better than most, but it was a passing acquaintance compared to this. This was an understanding like he was taking the same breath as the beast before him.

He stayed like that for several more minutes, simply touching Agatone's neck and shoulders gently, getting to know the feel of his feathers and the muscles beneath. He felt like he knew it all already, but he needed to touch to know it wasn't a dream. After a while, he nodded to Agatone and stepped back a bit, offering the same cordial bow as before. "I v'ill see you in two days," he said, to which Agatone... nodded? (indeed, the griffin had nodded in response) before walking back into his stable and settling comfortably. Viktor smiled and turned to head back to the castle for lunch.

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Woot! Another chapter down! I almost didn't get it done this week with getting a new Wii and taking down the Xmas tree. (Hey, I got it down before February, so it's not officially laziness.) Next chapter is already rolling around him my head, as it would have made this one too long to simply combine them. As always, thanks for reading and I love reviews!


	9. Notes & Eavesdropping

Note: Don't own HP, just the few original ideas you've read and didn't recognize before this story. If I were getting rich from this, you can bet your tushy I'd have a huge paid-in-full condo in downtown Vegas and VK would be chained to my bed by the ankle!

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The Great Hall was abuzz with the excitement of the Goblet of Fire ceremony that was merely hours away. Viktor arrived to lunch fashionably late, having to grab a seat at the edge of the Durmstrang group. Unfortunately, this put him within two seats of Malfoy. As Viktor took a seat on the long bench, he caught the scowl Malfoy shot him in a sideways manner. The blonde made no other acknowledgment of the Bulgarian, his gray eyes immediately returning to his plate in front of him. Viktor let it drop, presuming he'd simply offended the boy by refusing his attentions but not those of others. Though he still couldn't completely shake that slight uneasiness. His focus was quickly turned to his Northern brothers as his arrival was welcomed with salutes of glasses raised. He grinned to the genuine smiles of encouragement they gave him. Viktor chose not to tell them of the events with the griffins, saying that he was late because the professor needed to talk about whether he was intending to take the NEWT. Yuri and several others quickly chuckled, saying the professor should have spotted right away how passionate Viktor was for the class.

The conversation drifted to various passions and Yuri inadvertently found himself trying to explain why certain berries couldn't be cross-bred. While Yuri was doing his best to make the shapes of the berries with his hands as he spoke, Viktor's snitch-seeking sight caught a movement from the corner of his eye. Snapping his head around, he saw the tiny pixie made of parchment flitter between two of his school-mates, dance over the bowl of midnight-berries, and land on the edge of Anton's goblet. "What in da world?..." Anton said as he and a few of the boys around him looked at the pixie. Viktor arched a brow to the tiny paper-creation as Anton extended his finger and made a motion to poke it. When his finger reached it, the pixie snapped a few centimeters into the air, flipped around a few times, unfolded itself, and landed neatly in the shape of a plain square piece of parchment in Anton's open hand. Viktor couldn't see clearly from where he was seated, but noticed there must have been something written on the square, as Anton and the boy next to him quickly grinned mischievously after looking to it for several seconds. Viktor saw Anton's gaze lift and cross the room to where the Beauxbaton ladies sat at the Ravenclaw table. Trying to be non-nonchalant, Anton slipped his wand from the special pocket in his belt, lightly scrubbing at the parchment with the tip to erase the words written. Viktor casually went back to his buttered biscuit while Anton borrowed a Never-Empty quill from the young man next to him, quickly scribbling what must have been a response to the note and passing the feather back. When Anton folded the parchment in half and passed it to the Durmstrang across the table with a nod of his head toward the Beauxbatons, Viktor raised his glass to his lips and took a sip to hide the grin that split his features. As the boy now holding the parchment folded into the shape of a dog and discreetly scratched its "back" with his own wand to bring it to life, Viktor couldn't help but think silently. _So much for Karkaroff's talk about avoiding the Song of the Sirens._ The young man who enchanted the parchment whispered to his creation and then set it slide to the floor behind him, where it immediately started to scamper across the floor of the Great Hall beneath the tables and benches nearly completely unnoticed.

The Durmstrangs all went back to eating, trying to seem as though nothing had transpired, only Anton glancing up with his eyes-alone when he saw the young lady in blue robes lean down to pick up the paper pup. Viktor's back was turned in the direction of the Ravenclaw table, but he heard the giggles bubbling up moments later. It reminded him almost too much of the group he knew he'd have following him soon. The thought coming up, he gave a sideways glace to Anton, half considering asking if the note was about Anton or himself. But based on the wink and you-know-you-want-this face Anton sent across the Great Hall, Viktor counted himself safe. As the lunch wound down, Viktor glanced to both the window and the enchanted ceiling, both of which raised his spirits. It looked wonderful outside and he might finally be able to take in the Scottish air he'd been craving since arriving.

After passing up their plates, many students started to file out, though some stayed back to chat during the break before the final class of the day. Viktor started to head out but got stopped just after he'd stepped out of the doors by another pair of girls. At this rate, he figured he'd have pretty much all of the fan interaction done very early in the year, perhaps allowing him to complete the rest of the year in relative peace. Since there was still a mass of students coming from the Great Hall, he stepped over behind a suit of armor, using it as a deflection against the crowd at his back while he signed portrait of himself for the girl who looked nervous enough to fall apart in front of him. After signing the other one, he bid the young ladies farewell and turned where he stood to try and find Anton in the crowd, his curiosity demanding he know what the notes said. Before he could spot that specific Durmstrang, he heard the annoyed, yet still musical, voice of his affections. "No, Ron. I'm not saying you don't know what year it is. I'm saying you don't know how to do math."

"Now wait jus' a second!" the red-haired boy demanded as he turned to face Hermione, stopping mere feet from where Viktor stood concealed behind the suit of armor and not noticing in his focus on the conversation. "You're only half a year older than me. How can you be turning 16 next week?" Viktor cocked a brow to this, scooting even further into the shadows as he listened.

"Because," Hermione answered in a lowered tone, "of how I got to all my classes last year. Remember how I took both Divination and Ancient Runes at the same time?"

"Ron, just look," Viktor heard a third voice pipe in. It must have been Potter, he figured, as they seemed to be a trinity. "We don't need the whole school knowing, since she feels bad enough about getting an advantage last year. It wasn't cheating, since it was a professor that gave it to her. But she gave it back just the same. She used a Time Turner to take twice as many classes last year."

"I also had to recover from twice as many classes, so I had to sleep and eat twice as much as well. Basically," Hermione further explained, "I lived two days for each one everyone else did last year. I lived two years while you had one normal one. So...I'm another year older than you now." Viktor heard Hermione give a frustrated sigh to whatever expression was on the red-head's face.

"For Merlin's sake that's ridiculous," Ron replied. "Come on, Harry. We better get to class before she says I don't know how to read either." Viktor put his hand over his mouth to keep from chuckling too loudly at the red-head's frustration as the trio walked off. Even before he pushed off from the wall he'd been leaning against, his mind was spinning with two words: _birthday surprise._

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I am sooooo sorry it has taken me so long to update! I had the most absolutely god-awful writer's block! I'm slowly recovering and regaining sight of where I wanted/want the story to go, so hopefully there will be more updates more quickly now. Thanks for sticking with me!


	10. The Goblet

**Note:** All previous warnings and disclaimers still apply. Please don't hunt me down and whip me with damp spaghetti for the uber-long hiatus.

You might notice the style of the Durmstrangs' language change a bit. I had a reader comment that so many apostrophes were rather difficult to read fluidly. Re-reading my story, I agree.

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"The Durmstrang champion is... Viktor Krum!" Cheers and hoots quickly followed HeadMaster Dumbledore's announcement, primarily from the other Durmstrang students. Viktor gave a quick grasp of his fist, the moment of doubt that was creeping up his spine when the Goblet flared quickly squashed once his placement was official. After shaking Dumbledore's hand, the various professors indicated where he was to wait in the HeadMaster's commodity room. Once there, Viktor wandered around for a few moments, looking at the various items and consciously telling himself to keep his hands in his pockets.

As one of the Beauxbaton ladies entered shortly after him, no doubt the Goblet-chosen of her school, Viktor couldn't help but wonder if Hermione had ever been to this room and how she was likely ecstatic with questions of how things worked and what they did. The young woman approached him directly and extended her hand to him formally. "Bonjour, fellow champion," she greeted politely. "You are monsieur Viktor Krum, of course. I am Fleur Delacour."

Viktor took her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze, though neglected to place a kiss to it. He wasn't even aware at the time that he had failed to do so. "A pleasure. Vorgive me if I cannot say your name properly, miss Floo-er," he offered, not even bothering to try and pronounce her surname.

"But of course, monsieur Krum," she replied with a tilt of her head. Whatever she was about to say next was interrupted as they both turned to the sound of the door opening once again. "Bonjour, monsieur," she said to the newcomer and walked over to introduce herself to him as well. After introductions were complete, the trio drifted about the room, idly observing the various items and collections.

Viktor started to wonder how long the professors were going to leave them waiting just in time to hear the door open again. Expecting their various school-masters and Mr Crouch to come in, he quickly stepped to the center of the room near the fire, the other two champions following suit. But just as he was about to stand at attention, he saw that it was not the professors, but Hermione's friend, Harry Potter, The-Boy-Who-Lived. Before he could ask Harry what was going on, the professors he was expecting quickly stormed in, their fury, excitement, and various other exclamations apparent in their yelling and bickering. Clearly, something was wrong.

Once the declaration was made by Mr. Crouch that Harry was yet another Tri-Wizard champion, the four students were dismissed shortly thereafter, likely to allow the professors and school-masters time to discuss the events. Karkaroff pulled Viktor aside for a moment just long enough to say he would need to meet with him before dinner the next day and to keep his head down until then. Viktor knew better than to question the HighMaster, only nodding his head and following the other three students out the way they came. As they were about to take the last passage leading back to the room with the Goblet, Mr. Crouch quickly came up behind them and cleared his throat. "I uh... wouldn't... advise that," he stammered as he motioned with his one arm to cut off the students. "There would be enough excitement just with the normal Goblet choices. We don't need any more commotion so immediately," he added with a nervous nodding of his head. Viktor looked to Harry near him with his eyes alone, catching that the other two did so as well, though kept silent and simply went down the alternate passage indicated by Bartemius.

Not too far down the corridor, Cedric turned through a doorway on the right, not giving so much as a glimpse back Fleur chanced a glance to Harry before darting after the older boy, calling out, "Cedreek." Viktor silently speculated that she was wanting to ask the other Hogwarts student about the youngest of their group. Mr. Crouch took the next doorway, leaving the Viktor and Harry to continue down the hallway alone. Viktor took the opportunity once they were out of earshot of the doorway Bartemius had taken.

Without a twitch of forewarning, Viktor spun sideways, grabbing the shoulder of Harry's shirt in a tight fist and pushing him quickly into the wall, his forearm across Harry's chest as he leaned in enough to let the smaller boy know he clearly had the advantage of size over him. Viktor leaned his face in close to Harry's, staring directly into his spectacle-shielded eyes as he waited for Harry to regain the breath that had just been knocked out of him. When Harry met his gaze a moment later, Viktor got straight to the point. "Did you do it?" he asked in a low voice that was almost a growl.

"No! I swear I don't know how my name got in that cup!" Harry quickly explained, looking straight back into Viktor's eyes. He made no motion to remove Viktor's arm, probably knowing he wouldn't be able to budge it.

Viktor stared right back into Harry's eyes, looking deep enough he was sure he would be able to tell if the boy was lying. After a solid ten seconds, Viktor eased his arm off Harry's chest and took a small step back. "I believe you," he said simply. When he noticed Harry rubbing his chest a bit where Viktor had pressed his weight into him, he smirked a bit and offered his right hand to the boy. "Sorry, but I had to know."

"It's alright," Harry replied as he took Viktor's hand and gave it a single shake, his grasp fairly firm for his size. "If it reversed, I prolly would have done the same, except..." Harry motioned to the whole of Viktor once he'd taken his hand back. "I probably wouldn't have been able to knock you into a wall." The pair smirked together and a short chuckle was shared. Viktor started walking again and Harry quickly followed suit, though the latter took the next doorway they came to. "See ya later then," he said with a wave as he walked out of sight. Viktor returned the farewell with a simple nod, continuing towards where the corridor let out into one of the courtyards.

Once outside, Viktor saw that most of the student populace was either still in the Great Hall or had returned to their dormitories for the night. Deciding not to chance finding out which was correct, he skirted the outside of the grassy walled-in area and headed for the longboats just as the skies decided to make up for the bit of sunshine that past afternoon. Just as he was about to step through the final archway that led to the long ramp, a cloaked figure stepped out directly in his path, causing Viktor to stop dead in his tracks. A hand revealed itself from the sleeve of the robe the figure wore, holding out a plain piece of parchment, a quill tucked under the person's thumb. Viktor looked from the parchment to where the person's face was hidden in the hood just as the owner of said cloak shook the hood back to reveal his face. "Autograph?" Draco asked with an almost pathetically small smile.

Viktor quickly decided to try and make this go as smoothly as possible, not wanting to give the boy reason to hate him any more than he probably already did. "Sure," he responded as he took the parchment and offered a halfway version of his Charming Guy smile. No need to overdo it, after all.

As Viktor handed the signed parchment back, and was hoping to step around Malfoy to continue his escape, he noticed the blonde buffoon's face light up just a bit more than Viktor was comfortable with. "Thanks so much, Krum! You'll win the cup, you know," he started to ramble as Viktor slowly edged his way around where Draco was standing. "I'll be cheering for you the whole time. I know I should support one of my own school, but how could I possibly cheer for a cheater like Potty? And Cedric?" he continued without waiting for any input from Viktor, who was still trying to simply edge through the archway towards the boats. "I could never cheer for such a soft and gullible Hufflepuff. What a sissy. And Fleur would be no better, such a girly girl like that. I wouldn't be surprised if she broke down and cried during the first event!" Viktor simply nodded as he finally made it opposite of where he'd started, now just steps away from the ramp leading to the dock. "So I'll be cheering for you, Krum!"

"Tank you very much," Viktor offered before Malfoy could continue. He quickly added, "I must be going now," as he started to turn his body towards the dock.

"Oh of course," Malfoy said with a grin. "Must get your champion's sleep and all." Viktor waved as he turned and headed down the ramp at a very, very brisk pace. He kept his ears alert, listening for any extra feet on the dock behind him. What he heard instead was a yell he was sure woke at least several students. "Krum for the Cup!" He sighed heavily as he climbed into the nearest waiting longboat, quickly slouching down to be as out of sight as possible. As the longboat dragon snarled and the boat pulled away from the dock, he rubbed a hand over his forehead and wondered how in the world he'd turned the blonde buffoon from angered foe to adoring fan.

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*hides behind pillow fort guarded by her stuffy collection* Please don't kill me for taking so long! I have a few more chapters rolling around in my head, so hopefully I'll be posting much more often. *crosses fingers*


	11. Picture Time

**Note:** All previous warnings and disclaimers still apply.

To those who are subscribed and tried to use the last email notice that got sent, and got the "page not found" error, I'm really sorry about that. I added chapter 10, and then deleted the "Sorry for no update" page that was in the middle somewhere, which changed the numbers of the chapters' url pages. So the link that had been sent out for "The Goblet" didn't go to the correct page. But it's all better now!

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Friday morning, Viktor woke just as his Howler took its first breath to start badgering him, to which he threw a warning glare of his near-black eyes. The paper failed to get out a single yell before it refolded itself and settled on the nightstand. "I think I am adjusted and can get rid of dat thing," he muttered as he rolled out of bed. Lighting the candles with a wave of his hand, he quickly noticed the letter that had been slid underneath his door during the night, the off-white paper standing out against the darkened wood floor. Blinking the sleep from his eyes as he stepped over, he picked it up and turned it over, finding the official Hogwarts seal of wax on the back. Viktor slipped his finger underneath and popped the letter open, finding a single square letter inside.

_**Champions of the TriWizard Tournament**  
You are hereby excused from classes on Friday  
to allow for formalities of the start of the Tournament.  
You are required to appear in the  
**main entrance hall of Hogwarts Castle  
at 9 o'clock in the morning**  
for signing paperwork and a newspaper interview.  
Please wear your full school uniforms.  
Afterward, you will be dismissed to your own agendas,  
but please refrain from disturbing the classes._

_Respectfully,  
Minerva McGonagall  
Deputy HeadMistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry_

Letting out another yawn, Viktor told his brain to wake up and started to do the math of how long he would have until the meeting. Figuring he had a few hours, he decided to see if the rain had let up during the night and he could get outside for his workout once again. He set the letter on top of the dresser and pulled his school workout clothes from one of the drawers. Changing quickly, he dug out his running shoes from under the bed and tied them snug, knowing the ground would likely still be more than damp. Retrieving his wand from under his pillow, he stuck it into his pocket, enchanted to hold it as most of his clothes were. As he stepped out of his bunk and into the hallway, Viktor spotted Yan and let him know about the letter he'd gotten. He then made his way to the longboats and subsequently the dock next to the castle.

Instead of heading inside, Viktor made his way up to the exterior wall of the castle and limbered up with a few stretches of his limbs and cracks of his thick neck. Checking that no tardy students, specifically autograph seeking girls, were around to spot him, he trotted off into a jog around the exterior of the Great Hall, entrance hall, the west wing, and eventually wound his way down to the school's Quidditch pitch. With Hogwarts' Quidditch canceled for the year due to the Tournament, this was where Viktor had found himself jogging the first day the weather was nice enough to get outside. It was here that he increased his pace to his usual run, watching the ground carefully on his first lap around the exterior of the colorful pitch stadium to ensure he didn't slip in any lingering puddles hidden in the grass.

The air was brisk as Viktor ran in the loop, filling his lungs with the heavy humidity and expelling in controlled puffs. While he tried to concentrate on his breathing, his mind went to when he held Hermione in his arms and showed her out to breathe. When he realized where his thoughts had drifted, he shook his head and smirked to himself. _Get a grip, Krum_ he silently thought. _If you cannot even take a run without her commanding your thoughts, how will you ever focus on the Tournament?_

After running around the pitch enough times that he stopped bothering to keep count, Viktor noticed the sun had risen considerably further and wondered how long he'd been trying to keep his mind out of the gutter. Coming to a stop and pulling out his wand, he faced the sun and held his wand out in front of him in his face-up open palm. "Parte temporis," he said to the wand with authority. Almost immediately the wand began to spin in his hand like a hand goes around a clock, slowly raising itself up as Viktor allowed his hand to drop away. After a few moments, the wand was spinning vertically, as though looking at a clock on the wall with overcharged batteries. It soon began to slow down, and then come to rest pointing with the tip to Viktor's left, tipped down only slightly. "Better get going," he muttered before plucking the wand out of the air and stuffing it back into his pocket. He glanced toward the other side of the castle than he had originally come, thinking it might be a shortcut back to the boats, but quickly realized that way went around the greenhouses where students would be having morning classes. Instead, he took off at a run and doubled-back on his original path, managing to avoid all of the student body once again. Once back on the Durmstrang ship, he quickly showered and changed into his full uniform, then grabbed his walking stick and headed back to the castle for the meeting.

_An hour later that felt more like five..._

The paperwork had been signed, the terms and generalized rules conveyed, and just one formality left to deal with. "So... who's feeling up to sharing?" Rita Skeeter, the reporter from the Daily Prophet, asked once she'd elbowed her way into the center of the picture-posing quartet. Viktor noticed he was not the only one who showed no initiative to be the first victim of the nosy blonde. Before he even realized what she was doing, the woman who looked like she was trying to hide her true age had snagged Harry by the arm and was dragging him along towards a nearby... storage room? Indeed, Viktor caught sight of a mop bucket, push-broom, and a can of something hidden behind the corner on the floor.

Shaking his head slightly, he looked to the remaining two with him. "I do not know about you, but I do not think I am wanting to be in that tiny room with that woman," he commented. Both Cedric and Fleur agreed with shaking their own heads and muttered displeasure.

Mr. Crouch, who now had a very large armload of paperwork clutched to his chest, approached the trio and motioned to a nearby table with his head. "While you each wait for your turns, you may set your hats and overcoats down. We should be through with the photographs now." Viktor removed his hat and noticed Fleur removing her wrap right next to him. Being a gentleman, he offered his hand for it along with her hat, which she handed over with a polite smile. "I must be off now," Crouch added as Viktor set the things down on the table and started to remove his coat. "Once you have each finished your interviews with Miss Skeeter, you may leave. Your classes will resume as usual on Monday." The trio each nodded or waved to Crouch as he made his way out the front door, miraculously not dropping any of the papers he clung to.

Once all the extra accessories were on the table, Viktor's staff leaning against the side, Cedric let out a sigh and looked between Fleur and Viktor. "You don't suppose we could convince her to do our interviews all at once and to do it out here, do you?" Cedric said with a lighthearted chuckle.

"Something tells me she wants each of you boys alone in that tiny room," Fleur added with a smirk and an arched brow that bordered on mischievous. To this, both of the remaining males audibly groaned.

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